The Cure for Pain
by brightandtwisty
Summary: AU Set during the 18th Century in what is known as the 13 Colonies or colonial America. In the midst of building a new country that will value freedom and liberty Arizona Robbins and her husband strive to find their way. Callie/Arizona, Alex/Izzie, George/Callie, Meredith/Derek
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**

Disclaimer: One of us studied in the medical field and the other studied history, but we're pretty sure that a few anachronistic mistakes and scientifically questionable elements did sneak through our conveniently widened filters... Most of our efforts were concentrated on the goal of writing the best story we could. So hey if you spot a mistake feel free to let us know, but keep in mind that we're all fans of a show where McDreamy is sucked out of a plane and keeps his perfect hair and can still walk around, so we should all be able to tolerate a certain level of creative liberties. Also, we do not own these characters! They belong to Shondaland and we thank her for creating them.

**The Cure for Pain**

_Prologue_

The sun dappled against the purple sky, birthing a new fresh morning to a selection of eager feathered creatures. A blond sat precariously by a tree, surrounded by a hefty selection of worn and frayed pages weighted down by a couple of rocks she had delicately placed around the edges. The only sound aside from the occasional passerby heading towards the market, of birds chirping high up in the trees and the chatter of those few individuals who were up so early, was of the girl muttering to herself under her breath, as though the very words she was reading might somehow leap off the page and run reckless through the streets, stirring up dust and with it, the girl's secret. Arizona Robbins looked over her shoulder hesitantly, checking to see that nobody was behind her. She had woken up especially early on this Tuesday morning, but not because she couldn't sleep. She could hardly reign in her thirst for knowledge, as was evident by the way one delicate finger traced eagerly down an index of a book she had stolen from the manor.

"Cardiovascular Pathology by Robert Abbott, sounds _fascinating."_

At the familiar voice of her brother, Arizona jumped from where she was sitting, legs folded carefully underneath her in the grass. She'd been so enamoured by understanding the vast amount of medical information that had already been discovered, she had spared her sense of hearing for the brain power it took to absorb every carefully constructed and well thought out sentence.

"Easy there, Armada, don't stop your heart." Tim chuckled cleverly at his own joke before unceremoniously and without invitation plopping down beside her, one arm falling casually around her shoulders.

"Timothy!" Arizona shrieked, and she quickly slid the papers together, stuffing them back into a random place in the book before shutting it and folding her hands over the cover. Her brother did not seem too perturbed by this. On the contrary he seemed most distracted by his amusement in scaring her half out of her wits. "I told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

Timothy tilted his head back and forth for a second, pretending to remember as a slow smile surfaced on his lips. "Oh yeah. Woops." She felt a protective urge to keep the book close as Arizona brought her knees up, holding the wealth of knowledge to her chest as she watched her brother peer at her curiously. "What's wrong with you, Armada? You're acting highly agitated for no reason. I reckon you decided to read through your husband's collection of medical journals to see if he really knows what he's doing. I can promise you that you _didn't_ marry an impostor so you can relax and stop worrying."  
At this, the blonds' shoulders relaxed a little. He really wasn't making a big deal about this, which just went to prove that maybe she was worrying for nothing. _No, _she told herself assuredly,_ no, this is just Tim. Not everyone will turn their nose away._ Despite the fact that she hated to outright lie to her brother who she'd always entrusted with everything, Arizona decided that it was probably best not to share her true reason behind studying medicine.

Before she had time to reply, however, her brother's voice broke out and erased her thoughts. He was stretching out on the grass beside her and yawning loudly, sporting a good-natured boyish grin. "Man, I'm exhausted. I danced so hard last night. I can't feel my feet." And grinning over at her, he nudged Arizona in the side to get a reaction from her. "Where's that new husband of yours? Did the dancing make him bedridden? I'll go shake the numskull awake."  
Arizona was nervously twisting a knot of grass with her fingers as she stated the truth, "My new husband…" she started, tasting the word on her tongue, "My husband is in the barn." She stated simply, watching the expression she expected to unfold on Tim's features. Her brother was a very handsome man and yet mysteriously, curiously, and to the mockery of every village resident, her brother had never married. She'd heard gossip from the villagers, but never once had she approached him about the subject. Still, the young woman couldn't help but search his face, his bright blue eyes, and his impressive smirk for a small hint of jealousy. She thought that maybe she spotted a flicker of something that closely resembled the feeling, but she couldn't be sure, especially not with the sun now perched so high in the sky.

What seemed to interest Timothy most, however, wasn't the fact that she was newly married (though of course she would be worried for his sanity if he was at all perturbed by this, for she did in fact remember seeing him there at the wedding yesterday), no, what interested him most, she could tell, was the part about her husband being in the barn. The barn, a previous Robbins household accessory, for the rich military family had never made very much use of it aside from the storage and keeping of their father's trained combatant equestrians, was now apparently the new work room for _her husband, _yes that's right, husband. Arizona was _married _and no longer was she an unclaimed woman. Now she was one part of a sacred union between man and woman, she didn't benefit from the freedom- however illusory it might have been- tied to celibacy. Now her husband's tools and other interesting medical instruments were taking up space in her family's home and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. It was still so surreal and strange and uncomfortable, especially given the fact that Arizona did not know this man.

For most women, this wouldn't make them uncomfortable. What _would_ make them uncomfortable, however, was imagining the horrific and often macabre activities she knew her husband practiced. Dissecting pigs and other small animals in order to locate the origin of their disease and study the manifestations of it was just one of the few things she knew a physician was not only capable of, but responsible for. The thought of it didn't send a shiver down her spine, but rather a thrill through the very core of her body. No, what triggered the young Arizona into such deep pondering and feelings of scepticism wasn't the gory truth of what her man did in the depths of their inheritance, but rather the simple and much less complex and custom practice of being married to a stranger.

How very simple she was.

There came a soft spill of laughter from her right shoulder. "Couldn't have even given us the pleasure of his presence for breakfast, could he?" Tim chuckled. Arizona simply shrugged, not finding anything too peculiar about this at all. "I don't know how you're going to deal with that for the rest of your life, Armada." Timothy teased albeit affectionately while he drowsily stretched out and arched his neck, twisting his torso around at the sound of someone walking by the cobbled street. While Arizona was busy wondering what the rest of her life was going to be like, she was momentarily distracted by the protective body language surging out from the man beside her. Clearly he was in trademark military mode whether he knew it or not, keenly following the suggestion of the Colonel to always keep an eye open and ready for trouble. The disruption was just a harmless young woman passing by; Timothy's blue eyes followed her with a hallowed sort of hunger in them. Arizona did not drop the chance to do some teasing of her own.

"Pretty girl, isn't she?" She taunted, hoping her brother would take the bait and forget all about her marriage and husband. She didn't quite feel like thinking about either right now.

"Oh shush you, a guy can look." Tim quipped back, not even bothering to make an excuse or defend the obvious. He was rubbing the inside of his palm thoughtfully against his chin as he turned back to her. She'd been correct in her assumptions that a pretty something could deter him from further interrogation.

"Hey," he said instead, now on a new train of thought and not about to get off track. "Would you come with me? To the market? It might take your mind off of everything." Timothy waited until Arizona smiled in acceptance of his offer before sweeping to his feet and dusting his pants off, offering a hand out to nonchalantly pull her up. She paused quickly to push the book under her arm in order to protect the title before graciously allowing him to pull her to her feet.

Together, the two of them linked arms and made their way slowly, while conversing animatedly, towards the market.


	2. Fenced Field

**Author's Note**

Second chapter! You'll recognize a few more familiar faces and/or mentions in this one. Thank you so much for the good feedback! We are very excited to keep writing this fic and hope you will all stay tuned for more!

**Chapter 2: Fenced Field**

The market was a marvelous place to explore. It was alive with people chatting and exchanging warm hearted greetings, commenting on this and that, examining pounds of grain and wheat, eyeing freshly gathered vegetables and ripe fruit, or petting the donkey that carted it all here. June was the beginning of the colony's harvest time, and as such many were taking advantage of the good weather and suspicious peace to host lively parties, elaborate dinners and other well deserved celebrations. The winter had been a hard one, and as the colony of Massachusetts Bay was still moderately young in its development, the mortality rate was still an unfair gamble. Doctors were few and far in between and generally when the sick were diagnosed, all a doctor could really do was guide them on their journey into the unknown as best they could.

The sweet smell of produce and other fresh crops was thankfully enough to stir Arizona away from these upsetting thoughts. If she wasn't still so thoroughly full from the feast last night, her stomach would probably be clawing to get out. Timothy, she noticed, was completely distracted by the woman she now recognized they had been trailing the entire walk to the market. She had long blond hair that bounced alongside her back and was wearing an enviable matua. Arizona sighed knowingly, shaking her head before pulling him more forcefully towards her hip to keep him close and walking routinely towards her very first stop.

"'Morning Miss Robb— oho! No, good morning Mrs _Karev._"

Arizona blushed.

"Good morning, Mr. Torres," she greeted the grinning man as a smile of her own began to form on her lips. Carlos Torres owned the thriving market, and with the help of his wife Lucia and only daughter, the family manned and took care of the private business. A very successful farming man, Carlos arrived here with his family in the Bay three years ago and opened up his market to a staggeringly positive response. Since then, they had been working every morning, six days a week. Despite their generous collection of shillings, the family had never been interested in hiring.

It was hard work, but not once had Arizona ever seen the round faced and gently spoken man looking anything but cheerful. He was a friend to everyone in the village and generally well liked and widely popular. Carlos had an impressive mind and sharp memory, having committed practically every person in the colony to memory, which shouldn't have come as a huge surprise when he uttered her changed surname. He was always giving out advice, always familiar with the town gossip, but always distinctly and in his own way, private. The amount of respect Arizona nursed for him was immense; he always made her trips to the market all the more enjoyable and was simply a joy to talk to.

"I heard the ceremony went well. Everybody is talking about it. Wish I could have been there myself," he boomed heartily. Only at this did the blond notice everyone looking over at her, smiling, waving and nodding their own semblance of good wishes. "Congratulations." And he pushed his arm across the wide eyed salmon staring at her and lightly squeezed her much smaller hand.

"Thank you, sir" she muttered weakly, wishing her cheeks would stop burning from all this attention. Honestly, Arizona couldn't remember any other couple getting this kind of attention, so why all this for her? _You know why,_ her subconscious scolded her, _because your father is the Colonel, because Alexander Karev is a subject of great curiosity in the village and everyone wants to know how you're going to live with a man and his barn full of mutilated parts._

"Ah, and if it isn't Sir Timothy Robbins," greeted Carlos warmly, patting her brother's shoulder as a father would. "Having eyes for Theodora over there, I take it?" His brown eyes twinkled knowingly over to the direction of the blond now collecting bread from Lucia several feet away. "Why don't you go over there and speak to her?" Carlos suggested, tilting his head encouragingly in Theodora's general direction.

"Pardon? Oh no, Sir, I couldn't, you see—"

"Lucia, darling, " Carlos cut over Timothy's stammering excuses. Arizona was completely floored by the look of horror on her brother's face. "This young lad over here is offering a helping hand. Does Miss. Altman," he made a point of exaggerating the singular title with amusement, "need a hand with her shopping?"

Before he had time to object, her usually calm and cool brother was a frazzled mess of nerves with no choice but to cross the spare few inches of space between him and this Theodora Altman. Arizona watched him go with a small smile on her lips before turning back to look at Carlos just in time to catch the wink he offered her.

"Now then, Mrs Karev, what can I do for you?"

"The usual, Mr Torres, if you please," she continued, not wanting to hold anyone else up who might need to speak to him. Sure enough, a black haired man with a rather square chin Arizona thought was bellowing a greeting to Carlos and he was torn between which customer to serve.

Arizona smiled meekly at him, as if to tell him it was correct if she needed to wait, but Carlos shook and turned his head over his shoulder to call out, "Calliope, sweetheart, do you have a second?" His daughter looked about Arizona's own age as she approached the two, standing at a fair height with long black hair that looked as if it might fall to her elbows if it wasn't already tied up in an elegant bun. Arizona was struck momentarily by a fit of nerves, having never been assisted by this Calliope daughter before. She usually kept to her routine and waited until Carlos was free. He knew all her likes and dislikes; it was preferable for her not to have to think while venturing to the market, easy when someone already knew what she wanted.

"Will you assist Arizona here in collecting her order?" Her father requested gently. Calliope nodded before sending a smile in Arizona's direction. Even at work the family seemed to get along so well, which should be a record considering they probably never caught a break from each other. "Good, thank you. I'll talk to you later, Mrs Karev." And winking at her again Carlos shuffled off to serve the black haired man.

"What can I do for you?" Calliope asked politely, rolling up her dress sleeves so that her hands were more accessible and ready to work.

"Um...," faltered the blond, trying to wrack her brain for what she'd been here for in the first place. "Just the usual." She didn't find anything wrong with this order until she caught the deadpan stare of the Spaniard girl staring at her with brown eyes in obvious anticipation.

Arizona jumped in her realization. "Oh, oh! Yes, sorry. I would like some salmon, please, and some bread and carrots. Peas, potatoes," There were a lot of P's. "And do you have any fresh strawberries?"

The girl nodded and urged her to follow her around the booth, moving towards a shadier spot underneath the shelter where an array of the most luscious looking red strawberries Arizona had ever seen lay glittering under the few rays of penetrating sunlight. "How many would you like?" Calliope offered while leaning down to pick up a small basket from below. "Maybe around three dozen," Arizona figured. She wasn't sure how much Alexander liked strawberries, but she knew for sure that she did. There was still so much she needed to learn about her husband.

"Where are these from?" Arizona asked curiously as the strawberries were handed across to her and Calliope went about finishing up the rest of her order.

"It's a secret. A true berry picker never reveals her sources." Carlo's daughter sent her a challenging smile, as if to dare her to ask once more, but Arizona simply nodded and returned the smile. She liked Callie. She was bright and yet mysterious, a dark horse compared to the bubbly and predictable persona of her father. "I couldn't help but hear you speaking earlier," Calliope continued while packing the two slices of salmon Arizona had requested and making sure they were covered so as to prevent them from going bad. Confused for a second, Arizona realized she must be talking about her marriage. As Calliope moved on to the fruit and vegetables, she followed her as she continued to speak.

"That will be me in the next month." She admitted, chuckling nervously before passing off the gathered food to Arizona as she put them together.

"Oh. Well, congratulations?" The blond offered hesitantly, unclear on the kind of reaction this young woman was looking for. Why was she sharing this information with her? Maybe she had no other girls her age to talk to.

"Yes, I suppose. He's a good man." Calliope said while slicing up the bread. "An O'Malley," she added on as an afterthought before passing off the last of Arizona's order to her outstretched and waiting hands.

"Well... the O'Malley's are a lovely family." Arizona offered hopefully, still unclear on whether or not this girl was pleased or mortified with the idea. As far as she was clear, the O'Malley's had all been married aside from their youngest son, George, who was in the military. She'd heard good things about him, despite the fact she had never met him in person.

"Yes, they are." Calliope agreed, turning her head up to look out at the market briefly, lost in thought Arizona presumed. There was an awkward pause in which she didn't know what to do. Arizona adjusted the food in the baskets so that she would be able to carry it easier, careful not to let the book drop— honestly, _where _was Tim?— before shuffling to pull some money out of her front pocket. "Well thank you for your help, Calliope." She said quietly, passing off the coins so that they dropped in the brunette's palm.

"You're welcome, Arizona," the woman countered. Turning to leave and look for her brother, she paused as a thought struck her. She wheeled around on one heel with a mischievous smirk on her lips, catching the daughter's brown eyes and added, "When July comes I will bring the sweetest raspberries you have ever tasted. Maybe you'll reconsider on trading secrets then." Calliope's perfectly red lips split into a smile. "I'd like to see that, señora Karev."

And with that, Arizona turned around on the hunt for her Timothy, grinning like a fool and pleased at the notion that she might possibly have just made a new friend. Perhaps it was the fact that Karev was preceded by senora, but somehow she found the name sounded much more fitting when said in Calliope's spanish accent.

"What happened to 'Single Life for Eternity'?" Arizona harped on her brother who she'd finally caught up to. Her arms were having a well needed rest from carrying the food around the market looking for him, and only after ten full minutes of searching had she been lucky enough to find him deep in conversation with the blond by a nearby tree.

"That was before I met the beautiful and ever elusive Theodora Altman." Timothy sighed, still craning his head around to look over his shoulder as though he was somehow expecting to see the tall blond materialize out of nowhere. The sight was astonishing to Arizona who had never in her life seen her brother so spectacularly smitten.

"Timothy?"

"Mhmm?" He muttered, only half listening.

"We're here."

"Pardon? Oh!" He pulled up short before almost walking straight into the first of many trees lining the front of the Robbins Manor. "So we are, Armada. Open the door for me; I'll carry these in for you."

Arizona opened the door into the spacious front room. It smelled deliciously clean inside, like fresh pine as well as the scent of coal from the fire their maid, Isobel, had evidently started. The windows were pushed open to allow a fresh draft in to keep the fire strong, and by the smell of it Miranda, their indenture serving until her debt was paid, and also a kind hearted maternal figure to Alexander, had already started supper over the flame.

"Smells good. What's cooking?" Timothy teased while plunking the baskets and bags down on the nearest counter and stretching his arms out over his head. He popped a strawberry into his mouth before dramatically closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "Mmm, these are delicious. Might even be better than– "

"Don't say it, Tim." Arizona warned with a mock expression of warning on her features.

"Of course. No berry is superior to the Arizona Robb- er, Karev berry." Her brother smirked in amusement before bending down to drop an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "I have to leave now. I need to get ready for- wait," he stopped and tilted his head at his sister as if debating something he only just remembered.

"I promised Derek Shepherd and his soon to be wife that I'd meet them for a picnic later on today. We're meeting up by Aster Hill, near their place. Should be good for you to meet them properly, since… well, you didn't exactly get the chance to actually _talk _to anyone very much last night." She knew exactly what he meant. With so many people there at the wedding yesterday, it was all Arizona had been able to do just to receive warm wishes from everyone and thank them for their attendance. She'd been more or less simply terrified for the upcoming consummation, which in hindsight she had to admit had not been quite as dreadful as she had imagined the ordeal could possibly be.

Alexander had in fact been gentle and cordial with her fumbled inexperience. They had found their rhythm only too easily, a thought that caused her blood pressure to spike at the very taboo thought. Her husband had been unbearingly sweet to her in the first few moments of their marriage... until he was not there at all.

Before she had time to formulate a response, a light and airy voice coming from down the hall met their ears, no doubt belonging to Isobel. "Mrs Karev, is that you?" She had been working here in the Robbins' house for at least five years now, and over the course of her service the two blonds had grown to become acquaintances.

"Yes, it's me." Arizona offered kindly, poking her head up as Isobel joined them in the stone kitchen.

"Oh thank heavens, I've been increasingly worried since you left this morning. Mr Karev, I don't- well I don't mean to talk ill of your husband, Missus, but he's been muttering to himself down in the barn all morning. Sometimes cursing."

"Yes, that might explain the evil spirits rumor." Timothy chuckled from where he leaned against the counter munching on strawberries before stopping instantly at his sister's scolding look.

"Has he really, Isobel? Did you check on him?

"Once," the other blond affirmed, nodding her head breathlessly. "But he didn't... well I mean to say, he wasn't exactly..."

"Responsive?" Timothy offered helpfully, his obvious amusement of the situation tangible. Again, she sent him an exasperated look.

"Yes." Isobel nodded once more. "I asked him if he was at all hungry or thirsty, and he just mumbled something about a leaky atrium and a flaky septum." There was a long pause following these words in which Timothy coughed to break the silence. "Well then, I guess I'll see you later. Unless of course, sister, you'd like to join me later tonight for the picnic? I'll be able to introduce Theodora to you properly."

Arizona snapped her head back to look at her brother, having just been unusually shocked to realize she actually understood part of the terminology Isobel had just paraphrased. "I'll have to ask Alexander. If he says yes, we'll join you of course."

"Wonderful," he smiled at her before messing her hair up in an endearing brotherly way and nodding once to Isobel. When the door closed behind him, it was just the two women left in the kitchen. "You may go and have your midday meal, Isobel. I'll go and check on my husband." The word was still so funny on her tongue.

Based on the sun's placement in the sky, Arizona could see that it was an hour close 'til noon. Armed with the basket of strawberries dangling from one arm, she carefully tread across the grassy slope towards the barn which glimmered in the sunlight. There was a funny swooping feeling in her stomach, a bout of nerves perhaps. It was peculiar. Why should she be nervous about being in the same room as him? This had, in fact, been a piece of property belonging to _her_ family. He hadn't owned much more than a one roomed house before he had married her. She had every right to walk down this hill, open the door, and keep him company. Then why was her stomach rebelling so hard?

Taking a deep breath, the blond paused at the front door of the barn, willing her courage to take action and cover up every silly emotion she would rather not carry around on her sleeve. After she gained back her composure, she gently prodded open the swinging door and took one step forward. The scent of metallic blood was strong in her nostrils, catching her momentarily off guard. Only a small wrinkled nose of distaste showed that the young woman had been deterred by such an obscene distraction. Once she was accustomed to the strangeness of it all, she continued to walk through the depths of the elaborate barn.

It was starting to get uncomfortably warm in the barn, what with the sun rising in the sky, and yet Alexander Karev was still determined to work in such uncomfortable circumstances. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows so as to keep them from being tarnished by the blood that stained his hands. Alexander was used to the permanent shade of rouge his hands were, not having the luxury of an invented glove to keep him safe from possible exposed pathogens. He did not hear the door creak open when Arizona snuck through, too busy was he with his hands hidden deep in the body cavity of a slaughtered swine.

"How are you managing, Alexander?"

Alexander jumped in surprise, brown eyes snapping up to squint towards the dark corner of the barn his wife was occupying. As she approached him and walked more into the light, he could see her properly, and of course he was struck by how beautiful she was once again, how extremely lucky he was to have the Colonel agree that he could marry his only daughter. Every man in the village was envious, and Alexander couldn't simply ignore that notion.

"You shouldn't be here." It was all he could manage to formulate. Not 'Hello darling, how are you?', not 'I'm doing well, and you?" Nope, for all the many words in the English vocabulary, some most flowery and Shakespearen in time, Alexander went for the plain and unwelcoming 'You shouldn't be here.'

She ignored him, something that instantly got under her husband's skin. Rather than ask him why she should not be in this room or simply turn and leave him to his work, Arizona had the insane nerve to upturn a feed bucket nearby and seat herself precariously on the surface. Her attention was not on him, but rather on the body on the table before him. Alexander was tired of standing immobile with his hands in the cavity waiting for her to leave, which was growing warmer and more unpleasant to be close to by the second. Soon his work would be complete for the summer until autumn arrived, and then he would be able to focus on his research without the distraction of this heat. For now, however, he could do well without the distraction of his wife staring at him with an interest that should not be there glittering in her innocent blue eyes.

"I mean it, Arizona- this is not a place for women," he tried to reason with her, astounded that she had not in fact been revolted at the very sight of what he had always warned her about. The blond simply nodded slowly to herself, eyebrows furrowing as she pulled out a ripe strawberry from the basket beside her and began to chew on the fresh end of the berry, appetite unaffected by the setting around her.

"Is that the heart?" She suddenly asked lost in thought, nodding towards the small red blob on the table cut out beside the carcass.

"No," Alexander rolled his eyes. "It's the brain, can't you tell? Pretty interesting, right?" He was famous for the sarcasm that easily rolled off his tongue. His wife, however, did not seem to take well to it.

"There's no need to snap at me." She replied smoothly, standing carefully up to her feet once again before slowly approaching her husband's work table to investigate.

There was a protective feeling that overcame Alexander when anyone came close to his dissecting room. With his wife so dangerously close to the matter in which he worked so tirelessly on every day, he was beginning to get increasingly agitated. Soon he was going to snap completely if she did not make the right decision and turn around.

"Would you like some strawberries?" Arizona offered the basket to him, not even looking at Alexander as her eyes raked over the heart on the table. She had never seen anything so wondrous, so confusingly beautiful. This was _inside_ her? Well of course not this heart in particular, but the idea of it was similar. Why else would Alexander be exploring the internal organs of a pig?

He cleared his throat and grumbled in his frustration, wrenching a hand out of the pig to show her blood stains that would take an hour of scrubbing to resume modesty. Arizona frowned. His way of communicating was a little odd, an assortment of short sentences and body language that could all be pieced together to formulate some cynical point. Her own hands were stained red by the berries, and not from blood. It was in its own curious way an amusing comparison.

"Oh yes, sorry. Maybe some time later. In fact I came down to ask you if you wanted to join me at Aster Hill later this afternoon. Timothy invited us to join a picnic with some friends of his."

Alexander looked up at her, his brown eyes darkening. "Maybe. I don't know." He said in response to her invitation before going back to what he had been doing beforehand. Because it was obvious he was not going to be able to get his wife to leave, the next best step was to thoroughly gross her out, right? That's how the mind of Alexander Karev was working at the moment, at least. Stepping back towards the heart he had placed in the table, the doctor took out a knife from his pocket and without warning managed to slice the entire organ into two gory halves.

He felt something at his shoulder and turned.

"Oh sorry, am I in your way? I was just curious, honest."

He still had the knife braced in a clenched fist as he looked at her. What in God's name had he married? Some breed of female monster perhaps. With a shrug of his shoulders, Alexander continued to ignore her and went about pulling the heart apart. Blood drained down his wrist as he effectively placed the two halves inches away from each other. The problem was he could not concentrate with her breathing down his neck. With a deep sigh, Alexander turned to make room for her, no longer completely blocking her view.

"These are atrium's. These," he ran the knife over a big vein that pushed out vertically from the top of the heart. "Are veins. They pump blood in and out. Curiosity satisfied?"

"Can I hold it?"

Alexander made a small strangled noise in the pit of his throat. This was wrong. She was a woman. Women were not supposed to be this interested in how the body worked. This was above their range of capacity. Yet here he was hefting up the heart and dropping it carefully in his wife's outstretched hands, cupped together the way he instructed. "Don't drop it," he growled softly as she stared down at it like a child discovering something for the first time.

"Why is it losing its color?"

"Because it's been out of the body for so long." Alexander said automatically.

"Or," Arizona wondered to herself, tilting the two halves in her palm back and forth like a seesaw while thinking to herself. "Maybe it's because you severed the blood flow. Blood makes it red."

"I know, that's what I meant, woman." He said defensively, not liking the speed in which these ideas were coming to her head.

"This looks like a maze," she added while running her finger down the inside of the heart. The 'atrium's' as her husband had called them were fascinating. They were differently sized in some places, all with a purpose of their very own. Like humans. "How amazing."

"I think that's enough." Alexander suddenly declared, pulling the remains of what she was holding out and putting it back to the table. He was getting worried by the second at her clever observations and the way she so entirely understood everything he had worked months to fully comprehend himself. All the amount of books and dissections and following other surgeons around in his youth had gotten him this far, and here Arizona was making it look all so easy. It was dangerous territory they were crossing, and he was not going to help her get much further.

But she _had _given him something to think about.

"You know what?" Alexander decided, gazing down at the gut-laden table before looking up to meet her bright curious eyes. "I _am_ hungry after all. Let's go to Aster Hill." He offered her a tense and somewhat hesitant smile before walking over to the corner where a bucket of water sat waiting for him to scrub his hands in.

Arizona joined him but did not have to scrub for nearly as long as he. The rest of the time while she waited she fed her horse, Nico, patting him softly on the nape of his neck while watching Alexander from the corner of her eye. "Don't you worry, Nico, it will be the end of Dr Karev's career if he ever so much as thinks about wondering how you tick." She joked, noticing the slight upturned expression of her husband's smile from across the room at her tiny display of humour.

Not long after that, the newly married couple cleaned up the barn and locked the door before heading up to the house.


	3. Appearance Hill

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait, guys! We've been busy. Ultimately this chapter is shorter, but there is some important information revealed. Stay tuned for next chapter, and as always please review if you can!

**Chapter 2: Appearance Hill**

Thoughts of what lay waiting, probably stenching up the barn back at home, plagued Arizona's mind as they made their way slowly through the village. She'd held a heart in her hands. How many people- no, how many women could say they'd done that? Maybe she'd been the first. Oh, she couldn't be that foolish; of course she had not been the very first. But maybe _one_ of the first. The very idea of it was an alarmingly intoxicating high that the blond could not shake out of her head as they climbed the hill where Derek Shepherd lived.

Outside his grand house there was a wooden table set up near a tree for shade. From a distance, they could see a stunning redhead carefully placing an assortment of food: breads, beans, peas, cheese and what looked like a pot laden with stew on the arranged table. When they drew closer, she looked up with a beaming smile on her face. Arizona noticed that Alex was smiling a little too jovially back at her, but she couldn't be bothered to presently care. Her stomach was finally getting hungry for the first time since the big supper last night, and everything here looked delicious.

Timothy was the first to speak as they closed the distance. He greeted Mr Shepherd's fiancee with a kind hearted smile followed by a low bow and a soft peck on the woman's soft hand. "May I introduce you to my sister, Arizona," She smiled as her brother said her name a little shyly, "her husband Alexander, and myself, Timothy Robbins." Both Arizona and Alexander secured their formal introductions with nods and a smile.

"I hope you're hungry," the redhead broke the ice with them, as if reading Arizona's own mind.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Alexander interrupted, eagerly moving forwards to sit down at the table. Timothy seemed to have the same idea, following to sit beside his new brother-in-law underneath the bow of the tree. Arizona, on the other hand, paused and sent the redhead a warm smile. "Pleased to meet you, Miss...?"

"Montgomery. Addison Montgomery." The responding voice, however, did not belong to a the woman in question. From behind her walked her fiance, Derek. He was a tall man with thick dark hair that was the envy of all the men in the village. Arizona couldn't help but wonder how Addison was taking to the begrudging scowls from disappointed female prospects. The Shepherd's, along with the O'Malley's were two very popular families and it had been the subject of much town gossip over who the only Shepherd son would marry.

When Derek approached, he lazily drew his arm over his soon to be wife's shoulder, urging her to sit down. He kissed her very sweetly on her cheek. The redhead blushed and released a content little laugh, and as if she was intruding on a personal moment, Arizona could not help but turn her head away. She found this couple intriguing, to say the least. How was it that a pair who were not yet formally bound by vows could be so naturally happy and content, yet the arguably experienced pair of Arizona and Alexander could not even afford the basic principles of sensible interaction? She was determined to change this.

Theodora arrived not long after, welcomed by a bounding and seemingly playful Timothy pretending to pull out the table bench for her. "So pleased you could make it, Miss Altman," he greeted the woman eagerly. Arizona exchanged a look with the other present female counterpart, Addison, and sent her an exasperated explanatory eye roll as if to say 'Yes, if you couldn't guess already, my brother is in love.'

Once everyone had been properly introduced to Theodora, ("Her whole family's in the military, you know, and Mrs Altman sells the best bread you've ever tasted!") the group of six settled around the table which was now dangerously close to collapsing from the pile of food covering its surface. While Arizona inwardly debated to herself on how exactly her brother knew all these facts about his new romantic interest, the men and women carefully passed each other bowls and plates, making sure that everyone had enough to satisfy their stomachs.

"Mm, this is delicious," Timothy commented ravenously through a mouthful of rabbit stew. Arizona idly wondered to herself if he was going to possibly stop talking enough to chew any time soon.

"I'm glad you approve, Mr. Robbins," Addison regarded him with a shy smile.

There was a settling of silence that covered the group as they all nodded their approval of the meal while enjoying the scenery. Aster Hill was situated high above the colony, revealing a perfect view of the market and winding houses down below, all blue sky and sun straight through. Arizona made eye contact with her husband who had somehow wound up sitting across from her. He was focusing on biting into his corn when he noticed her looking and paused, brows raised as if to ask what she was looking at. Back at home she had watched him split open a heart, so precise and calm- yet the way he handled his food and utensils here, you'd think he didn't have a gentle bone in his body.

"Yes?" He spoke just above a whisper over the new discussion that just broken out across the table.

"I've noticed that you have been awfully quiet." She observed.

"I'm eating."

Arizona bit her lip and flushed. Why was it that when he spoke to her sometimes he had the unforgivable ability of making her feel like an errant child? He was so hot and cold. One minute he was ordering her to walk out of the barn she used to read books in as a child, and the next he was helping her hold a heart. One minute they were talking fine, and then he was back to being silent and broody. Was it _her_? Had she done something wrong? Was she being a bad wife? All kinds of questions were racing through Arizona's mind as the young woman continued to chew her food in silence, taking her chagrin without fuss.

"So how's the pork over there, Alexander?" Derek Shepherd suddenly asked from across the table, lifting his head up to survey the two of them in a polite effort to include the newly wed couple in the conversation.

"Huh?" Alexander questioned with a frown, looking down at his stew as if he'd missed something. Arizona couldn't help but stifle a small chuckle until he sent her a blazing hot warning glare. She instantly smoothed her lips into a tight line, restraining herself from laughing along with the rest of the table. Clearly he felt left out of a running joke and it irritated him. But Alexander wasn't a graduate from University for nothing. Eventually, he did pick up on the source of shared amusement, and when he did she noticed his mouth cinch into an annoyingly attractive smile. _Hmph, figures he's fine with them laughing but not me. _Arizona privately thought her husband should have enrolled in an extra course: A Sense of Humour: The Art of taking a Joke, but she kept this observation to herself.

"Oh, right." Alexander was shaking his head, clearly uncomfortable and a little out of his element, but also excited to suddenly have all eyes on him. "I've been keeping busy. I bought two sows from Carlos down at the market about two days ago, and I've been working on trying to figure out some form of pain management for my upcoming surgeries, there's been-"

There was a splutter of incredulous surprise coming from the other end beside Arizona. "You're deliberately putting an animal into pain for the purposes of your research, Dr Karev?" Addison's cool blue eyes were watching him carefully as she instinctively covered up the horror in her voice as though she was merely asking the question out of curiosity.

Alexander shook his head roughly. "No. No, I'm not... well I mean- not deliberately. I try to make sure they're not fully conscious." She cringed, hoping nobody asked exactly how he went about doing this. "I record their reflexes and see if anything I give them blocks the pain sensors." Arizona noticed everyone around her suddenly becoming avidly interested in the words coming from her husband's mouth. Intriguing thought she was slowly picking up on: he only ever seemed to have a lot to say when it was about medicine. "I just tug their feet. If they're not out enough they react. Strongly. If they're not in a deep enough state, they let me know and I don't do anything." Not unless they're dead, Arizona knew.

"Oh, how interesting. Have you any luck?" Theodora asked curiously.

Arizona had become privately knowledgeable on how long her husband paused between speech, and as such she knew enough to understand when he was struggling. "He showed me the heart today." She interjected, casting a sideways glance at her husband as if seeking permission to save him from the onslaught of sudden questions and attention he was probably not used to.

"Oh really?" Timothy asked pointedly, his eyebrows now rising as if sharing a private joke with his sister. Arizona couldn't meet his eyes, knowing full well what he must be thinking, given the book he had witnessed her burying her nose in just earlier this morning.

"It was very brief," she fibbed graciously. Somehow she did not think it wise to share Alexander's graciousness in bending the rules for her so early in their meal. "But I must say, it was very... impressive." Was that the word she'd been searching for? Sure, let's go with that. "Of course I don't touch anything in his laboratory," Arizona earnestly supplied. "I just watched him work for several minutes before returning to the house."

It had been enough to successfully redirect the conversation to a less intense topic. Alexander's mouth twitched in a faint gesture of gratitude before answering everyone's insistent questions, but he remained guarded and somewhat secretive, only sharing what needed to be known while skimming over the more grisly and most likely to be controversial information that was only shared between surgeons. It struck Arizona how unbearably lonely it must be to practice medicine. Not many were familiar with what the occupation entailed, and as such many false rumours and presumptions filled the judgemental minds of the colonists, but not without a great deal of respect and admiration for the folk who risked their time and reputation to save, or in those rare unfortunate cases, maim lives.

As interest dwindled and eventually shifted to other business, Arizona nearly jumped out of her seat at the feeling of her ankle being brushed beneath the table. Blue eyes narrowed in confusement momentarily before she caught the subtle smile on Alexander's lit features. Oh, so now he was in a good mood. Could he possibly write down the times and dates when he was cheerful so that she could better avoid the unpleasantly cross demeanor? As much as she would have loved to react to his private offering of affection with much the same attitude he had offered her, Arizona knew that this was not an option. Wives did not provoke their husbands, not unless they wanted to be served a punishment. It was the unfair truth to the world they lived in. So instead, the blond smiled back and allowed him to rub his leg refinedly against hers, tugging her ankle forward as if in an action of possession underneath the barrier that cloaked the interaction from prospective eyes.

The conversation took a tailspin and became about politics in no time. She could distinguish this not because of the words, but because of the way her brother automatically tensed up in a familiar yet terrifying way. While Arizona could hear Mr. Shepherd and her brother discussing the potential for dangerous raids due to the battles currently being fought over in Europe, she was seemingly distracted by her husband's secretive yet also public flirtation and by the fact that he was the only man not engaged in the typical virile conversement. It was alarming how careless he was with such delicate and possibly worrisome subjects being discussed at the very same table he was so eager to philander under. His attentions, instead, were very much centered on her. The young woman was confused and unsure what to make of this, but thankfully before too much time went by Alexander was pulled into the conversation and forced to divert his courtesy to the subject at hand.

Having been raised by a military man Arizona was familiar with the horror stories that erupted from the military tactic they called raids. Stolen goods, burned houses, injured civilians, lives taken and innocent people made captive were the kinds of abominations that were perpetuated in those depredations. Arizona was surprised to hear Theodora's sad story, proof that these ambushes were in fact happening around them. Her own family had been subjected to such an assault and it was no surprise that the aftermath had left the woman visibly wrapped his arm protectively around her waist as it looked like she was about to dissolve into tears, leaning into her ear to whisper something that Arizona predicted was a comfort, because she nodded quickly and gathered control of her emotions before they spilled all over the table. While Addison did not make a point of adding her two cents to the suddenly tense table, Arizona knew that she along with herself were listening raptly while feigning disinterest. She could feel the atmosphere switch off around her brother's central perimeter as he was far more engaged and sensitive to the talk of possible war. When Timothy spoke up to make his own voice heard, it was with an authoritative and almost intimidating approach, a stark contrast to his usual comical and boyish disposition she was so familiar with. Mostly he seemed to represent their own father's opinions, sounding a bit like a papa's boy with the way he spoke of the Colonel, clearly of the belief that his words were factual truth. Timothy was a good son, through and through, loyal to the very core in anything he affiliated himself with. Arizona admired this trait in her brother, but sometimes the way such matters affected him made her worry.

"I see no reason why we should be involved in another continent's fight," Derek was assuring them all, his plate completely clear and pushed back as though he needed room for such a serious discussion. The black haired man had a way about him that begged others to defy him. Arizona was certain that Mr. Shepherd had a vast array of persuasive dialogue he could use at any time to sway a group of deceiving individuals onto his side of perspective.

"I wouldn't be so decided on that." Timothy forced in, and Arizona had to hand it to him; he seemed like he knew exactly what he was talking about. "It would be just like England to involve us in their petty quarrels. Make us fight and lose to remind us who we're owned by."

"But it's a matter of honor." Alexander pointed out. "Are we just going to cast a blind eye to the deaths because it doesn't affect us?" Trust him to speak of honoring the dead, Arizona thought quietly to herself. It was at least nice to see her brother and husband on a similar side.

"Yes," countered Derek, and there was a tinge of passionate bitterness in his vocals as he carried through with his opinion. "Because as you can see based by Miss Altman's experience here, they don't care about ours." A ringing silence set over the table as if the words Mr. Shepherd spoke were final. There was not much to be said, given the fact that the small group seated together knew very little about what was currently occurring overseas. As Alexander Karev directed his suggestive and slightly possessive gestures towards his wife, European monarchs claimed ownership of lands that has been left crownless by the death of their king. As Derek Shepherd passionately stated his opinions, men risked their lives to see their political leaders passion driven claims come to fruition. As Timothy Robbins substituted his usual playful ways for more dignified dispositions, young men close to his age were being called to board ships to defend their country's honor in the New World. And as Arizona Robbins felt oppressed in her obligations of silence and did her best to relinquish her impulses to participate actively in the conversation, a war that had started on other territories already seemed to be imposing on them.

"So... are we in danger?" Arizona piped up after the quiet became excruciatingly uncomfortable to endure. Perhaps it was unnatural for her to speak about such matters, but she felt she had a right to know if she should worry. All at once three answers came firing at her:

"Of course not." Bitter and overbearing Derek.

"There's always a chance." Reasonable and carefully calculated Alexander.

"Yes." Her brother, whom Arizona knew in her heart she could trust with her very life.

She couldn't resist the horror slowly creeping up her spine. Poor Theodora, with her family's house destroyed and nowhere to go. Not one to accept fear until it was breathing down her neck, the blond was thirsty for more knowledge. Knowledge, after all, was a difficult to acquire power, especially in a world lacking from the ease of future technology. It was a matter of hearsay, who you knew and the luck of what you stumbled across in passing conversation. Even then, it came down to a matter of trust. All anyone could control at this point was who and what they believed.

"I hear our soldiers proudly talk about defending freedom, liberty and equity for all men. Those seem like far more nobler notions to fight by than the reasons why the older continent's soldiers come to fight here."She stated what seemed to be a very pertinent opinion.

"Arizona, hush," came the suddenly fierce and to be expected verbal slap on the wrist from her husband. She had apparently taken the granted freedom of speech he'd enlisted her with a little too far. The other men at the table seemed to agree, shaking their heads and choosing to ignore the words she had so carefully formed on her lips. The blond tightened her mouth into a thin line and remained quiet, sitting like a good girl at the table while the men unceremoniously finished the conversation, leaving Arizona feeling scolded and still despite it not being her problem, extremely apprehensive.


	4. Forbidden Meadow

**Forbidden Meadow**

Like every respectable couple of their era Dr Karev and his wife spent the first burgeoning moments of their marriage striving to find common interests and values on which they could build a solid foundation for their union. They did what convention asked of them, but they quickly realized that the only promising ground on which a foundation could be established was everything _but _ it is perhaps because of this very singularity that they succeeded to build a comradery that both of them had primarily deemed improbable. With her armed with patience, him blessed with an uncommonly wide open mind and both possessing a high tolerance to logic driven arguments they managed to sail through their differences and turn their heated discussions into humbling experiences that did nothing less than ameliorate their individual strengths, making them a stronger unit in return. A humorous mind would have called the unconventional terrain on which they built their equally unconventional marriage a medical field because it is in fact medicine that sutured them together. Dr Karev's sharp mind and his wife's eagerness to discuss medicine made it easy for him to notice the woman's interest in the subject. In fact he could barely make her shut up about it. She always had a comment, a fact or a question to share and while her incessant exhortations irritated him in the beginning he quickly realized that she could be quite helpful. He even found himself asking for her company when he had complex tasks to accomplish in his barn-turned-laboratory.

Slowly they sculptured their peculiar partnership and built a comfortable routine that Alexander found highly effective. He would usually manage the tools required to dissect and observe while he dictated observations that she would write on paper. What made her more than a simple scribe was her keen sense of observation matched with her admirable talent to turn mumbled observations into elaborate and well communicated statements. At first her suggestions had been met with shrugged reluctance and grimaced annoyance, but gradually he grew warmer to her initiatives and hesitantly nodded his acceptance; before he realized it, her suggestions became contributions. He didn't see any harm in putting his wife's odd traits into good use. It is on this disposition that Arizona and Alexander Karev started to build the union that had been earlier sealed by religious vows.

They now shared the mutual respect and equivalent trust that would usually characterize a relationship built between colleagues. Fortunately for them their bond still held some kind of credibility when they were out of the laboratory. Sure their relationship felt less natural and more assayed than what Arizona had hoped, but at least they found some level of comfort in each other's presence. Usually that is…

First the unexpected feeling of the rough skin of his fingers sliding against her exposed neck made a shiver run down her spine, but as she slowly stumbled out of her dormancy she felt her muscle tightening with tension. "Arizona," She heard him say in the softest tone she had ever heard coming from him. Slowly she was pulled back to consciousness, every moment making her more aware of his presence: his hand on her skin, his tone softened for her and his unusual proximity. Her first attempt at pushing up her eyelids was quickly discouraged by the violating light that hit her gaze. However faint the moment had been, she had seen enough to know that the sun was rising, which meant that she had fallen asleep in her husband's laboratory while he was working. Finally she gathered enough energy to open her eyes for a second time and to slowly raise her head from the pile of papers and books on which it had rested during her fatigued quiescence. It wasn't unusual for her to wake up in this position; her husband and she would often find themselves too invested in their projects to find the desire to rest for a few hours, which often led her to fall asleep against her intentions. What was unusual was the fact that Alexander was presently touching her and softly whispering her name in the hopes of waking her up; usually when he needed her he would simply say her name loud enough to disturb her sleep. Now highly aware of his hand on her neck she amplified the movements she normally chose to stretch her sore muscles in the hopes that his hand would be shied away. He didn't flinch.

His touch wasn't insistent or forceful. On the contrary it was gentle and patient which made his intentions clear and her anxiety rise. Now completely awake due to her nervous state she quickly rose from her chair and looked at him. "Is there something you require?" Usually he would only wake her if he needed her help to do something, but then again he would usually bark the order her way; maybe this was why his gentle approach was so unsettling. Again her sudden movement didn't seem to influence his intentions. His hand had simply followed her movement and was still resting on her neck except now his thumb had migrated from the back of her neck to brushing against her collarbone. Every breath she took seemed to be shallower than the last. Her blue eyes fled his brown until she found a strange comfort in the kindness she descried in them. The paradox she was letting herself fall into didn't even occur to her: how he was the instigator of her anxiety, but how he was also her only present source of comfort.

He gave her a soft lopsided smile. "I've finished excising the fetus's", he spoke in the same unusually soft tone he had used before. She quickly jumped on the opportunity his statement presented her. "Oh. This means we can proceed to dissecting the placenta." She uttered it in a higher tone than she would have liked. Maybe it was his hand still on her or the intensity of his leer, but something made her unable to move. She saw his eyes slowly drift from hers and dip down towards his hand, her collarbone and the hint of her breasts. "We don't have to do it now," he said with playful nonchalance. Everything about his gentle and considerate approach made it difficult to listen to her instinct. She knew what he wanted and she also knew it was her duty to serve him with what he was asking of with such refined manners, but her spontaneous reaction was to desist. She was torn. There was no other way to state it; she wanted to be the wife he wanted her to be, but it was as if it went against her very nature.

She was still standing in front of him, every muscle in her body tensed, her eyes pierced into his even though they had left hers a few seconds before. Very slowly his hand moved from her neck, slowly grazing the epidermis of her collarbone and then towards the gentle curve of her breasts. When his fingers traced the cleavage of her dress, she couldn't retain the urge to step away. She moved swiftly and desperately, trying to camouflage the reasons behind her actions. "I'll go get your knife and forceps."

Not even daring to look towards him, Arizona made her way to the box where he kept the required tools and with shaking hands she took the things she knew he would require. She then placed them neatly and strategically on his table and placed them again and again until the unnatural amount of time she took to organize the instruments became so absurd that she forced herself to look at her husband. He hadn't moved; the hand that had rested against his wife's skin just a moment ago was now simply surrounded by air. The atmosphere was so thick with tension she felt her eyes sting with tears. Arizona hated tension. She did everything to avoid it, but with her husband she so often seemed to be the source of it. She fought her tears and tried to swallow her fears. "The tools are ready." She said delicately. Her words seemed to unfreeze him, his open hand slowly closing into a clenched fist. Alexander turned his head towards her and she immediately threw her eyes to the ground. She couldn't bare to see the disappointment she knew she would find there. "I will not require your services." And with those words dripping with bitterness she was dismissed.

Without even daring to take her eyes off of the floor she quickly made her way outside the barn. Her tear-filled eyes made the path before her appear uneven and chaotic. Sometimes life serves us what seems to be a tailored metaphor to illustrate our predicaments. The door closed with her back leaning against it, her hand still gripping the handle. If anybody were to witness her present position they would probably interpret it as an effort to restrain some kind of malefic force inside the barn and in reality it is what it was; an effort to ban every bothersome feeling inlaid in her marriage.

She leaned against the door for a few seconds, knuckles white with pressure against the handle, eyes filled with tears too ashamed to venture down her cheeks as she tried to regain some kind of composed facade. What she had done in there was unacceptable, she had just refused her husband, she had humiliated him and herself. Why couldn't she just be a good wife to him? He was a good man. She even enjoyed his company. Under his rugged appearance and lack of bedside manners he could be so patient and considerate. She was aware of her luck; she knew of women who had been forced to marry men who only had love for the bottle, or men who gave into sins of the flesh, but she had been lucky. Her father had given her hand to an honorable man. Alexander was a man who offered all the things a woman needed. He even gave her opportunities other men would undoubtedly deny her such as the privilege to learn medicine. She was aware of all those things yet it was still incredibly difficult for her to treat him like a respectable lady would treat her husband.

In an attempt to escape the current lachrymose state of her marriage, she took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on her surroundings. Birds were chirping their morning serenades as if this morning was like any other: the air was filled with a floral scent coming from the nearby garden and the sun was still low in the sky, and she could already see movement from the windows of their not so distant house. Isobel and Bailey were probably already awake and attending to their daily routines. It struck her how mundane her surroundings contrasted with her current atypical disposition, but slowly Arizona molded herself to her surroundings and managed to regain some kind of control over herself.

Finally feeling assured enough to let go of the door she took a few steps towards the garden. Every step in the morning dew covered grass made her feel a little more like herself. Their garden was beautiful. Apart from the kitchen where she ventured when she wanted to read in peace, the garden was probably her favorite place to go when she wanted to flee undesired attention. She took a moment to appreciate the sight before he;, their rose trees were particularly exquisite this year and she took a mental note to congratulate and thank their gardener about that. Her eyes caught a discarded basket on the ground, maybe Richard, their gardener, had miss-placed it there. She picked it up and walked towards the little garden shed to put it into its place when suddenly an old promise came back to her. Hadn't she promised the market's owner's daughter, Calliope, to make her taste raspberries from her own secret raspberry spot? Arizona stopped in her tracks and looked down at the basket that hung down her arm. Now seemed like the perfect time to follow through with her promise. She needed something that would take her mind away from her inner turmoil and somehow Calliope Torres seemed like the perfect distraction.

Instead of taking the basket to the shed Arizona changed her course and headed towards her very secret and invidious raspberry patch. It had been a few years since she had gone to those parts of the woods, but she had walked this path so many times during her younger years that she had no problem whatsoever finding her way through the wilderness. The path to get there had never been tended to; branches, shrubs and fallen trees all

conveniently served as natural obstacles to discourage other appreciators of the wild berries to raid or even discover her secret spot. She walked slowly, enjoying the dominantly green scenery and all the sounds that nature offered in today's rendition of her constantly unique concerto. The sun was still low in the sky, but Arizona could already feel its warm light shedding the promise of another warm summer day. As the faint whisper of the clear watered stream slowly reached her ears a discrete smile captured her lips. She was just a short physical distance away from the torment she had just fleeted, but already she felt lighter. Perhaps it was because this place was inhabited with memories of simpler days or maybe it had something to do with the notion that her presence here meant that she would soon fill the promise that would give her a reason to talk to the captivating Spanish lady once again.

She sighed in contentment as she finally stood at the edge of her destination. It had been a few years since she had made the short journey to her secret berry patch yet nothing seemed to have changed. Often our minds embellish the sites that hosted our souvenirs, but this was not the case. What had once been her fantastical playground still held all its beauty. It is this recognizable beauty that made this place so peculiar. She would come in these parts of the woods to play when she was younger because it provided her with a magical decor. Her imagination free from imagining a setting could concentrate on other tasks of wonderment and marvel such as envisioning herself in the middle of some Joan of arc-esque quest or inventing fantastical beats that rivaled those her mother spoke of on the rare occasions where she shared old tales.

The area was lightly wooded which permitted golden rays of sunshine to illuminate the many shades of greens that then served as contrast to the multitude of colors that graced this natural canvas. A calm but constant stream of clear water ran over smooth round rocks; she knew that her brother used to come here to bathe when they were younger and she wondered if he had made a return visit in recent years. To her right, just as she remembered, tall green shrubs punctuated with raspberries waited for her. She started picking the raspberries that were on the top of the shrub, this way she would recuperate the ones that fell as her strategic picking brought her closer to the bottom. She didn't give into amateur berry picking techniques, especially knowing that her intentions were to impress Calliope. She smiled at that thought. The goal of her quest was far less noble than those she had invented to distract herself when she was younger, but somehow it felt just as fundamental.

Calliope, the unique sounding name and its owner never really left her thoughts as she gently picked the tiny sweet fruits careful not to scratch her hands. Her basket was close to being full when she finally gave in and popped a raspberry inside her mouth. The fruit did not disappoint. It was as juicy and sweet as she remembered. Arizona smiled proudly and repositioned herself to pick the last few berries when suddenly her smile froze; in the distance she could hear the identifiable sound of branches and leaves cracking under evenly paced footsteps. She remained crouched in the middle of the raspberry shrubs and concentrated on the sound in an attempt to identify the newcomer without being noticed. Her mind instantly went to fear filled scenarios containing wild beasts, screams, pain and other tragic elements. She finally had to admit that her ears had failed her and would have to look if she wanted to identify the intruder. Taking a deep breath, Arizona carefully moved a few branches in order to liberate her field of vision.

Slowly the stream and the defined contours of a human form came into view. Arizona felt a breath of relief leave her body; at least she wouldn't be eaten alive by some savage creature. The person had her back turned towards her. The blond wasn't sure what to do. Get out of her spot and startle the woman or stay in her position and patiently wait for the person to leave? It is in that moment of hesitation that Arizona lost her chance of getting out of her improvised hiding spot. A few seconds of hesitation caused by the intention of sparing someone a moment of shock won her a moment of shock of her own.

The morning sun, still working on its ascendance, shed its golden light against the intruder to reveal their curvaceous silhouette. First Arizona saw the woman's mantua turn into a puddle of fabric at the stranger's feet. The already immobile Arizona Robbins froze in her crouched position. It wasn't the realization that the woman standing next to the stream was slowly taking off her clothes that imprisoned Arizona into her compromising position, but rather the shattering realization that she wasn't glimpsing at a stranger's intimate moment. She recognized this silhouette easily for it had gamboled through her mind more often than she would ever admit. The woman who was now carefully reaching for her dress's agraffes and slowly unhooking them, was the exact same woman to whom Arizona had made a promise a few weeks earlier. A wave of warm shock that had nothing to do with the thermal powers of the solar orb rushed through Arizona's body leaving a conspicuous trail of pink on her cheeks. On Calliope's back a V shaped opening widened as her unhooking trailed down her back. Her white, but nearly translucent undergarment teased the reveal of caramel colored skin that matched the beautiful skin of her visage. If Calliope had been considered an intruder a few seconds ago it was now clear that Arizona was the one who was intruding.

Arizona had read of similar situations in some of her most frivolous books, but never had the authors wrote about the kind of tearing battle that was now monopolizing Arizona's mind and body. Her book's protagonist had always been transfixed by what they were witnessing and though a part of Arizona wanted nothing more than to keep her eyes on Calliope's body as she revealed more and more she was also flooded with admonishing thoughts that fought to suppress her surprising urges. She was committing a sacrilege, giving into a scandalous attraction and everything inside her mind and body seemed to be at war. She pulled her gaze to the ground but her sight still blazed with the continuation of the scene she had just spied. She closed her eyes to no avail; like a curse, thoughts of a lightly dressed Calliope haunted every part of her. The images melted from her mind and engraved her skin with shivers of excitement; they scratched against the inner surface of her abdominal region, pressing against her chest and making it impossible for her to breathe normally. Nothing had ever had such an overwhelming effect on her.

She opened her eyes just in time to witness the light fabric of Calliope's undergarments falling on the ground at the most teasing of speeds. The fabric slid difficultly against Calliope's skin, probably due to sweat caused by the extremely warm weather. Arizona gulped at the sight of Calliope's bare shoulders. They were wide and Arizona wondered if the skin that covered them was as soft as she imagined. The sight of Calliope's back made her shiver: the undergarment stuck on Calliope's hips, her fingers had to sneak between the tissue and her skin to let the fabric fall on the ground. There was nothing angular about Calliope's body. Smooth mountains and valleys of dark skin mapped her back, hips and legs.

Now fully undressed Arizona saw the woman take assured steps towards the streaming water. Just before her toes touched the water Calliope unleashed her hair and a cascade of long dark curls invaded her neck and shoulders. Not a hint of hesitation tainted Calliope's steps. She easily found her footing on the round and probably slippery rocks and quickly, her body was fully submerged in water.

What Arizona had just witnessed was highly unusual. To her knowledge, rare were the women who bathed naked in a natural stream. It was ill-advised, not to mention forbidden. However it is not the oddity of what she had seen that really concerned her, but rather the effect it had on her. As it was often the case when she was tormented or confused, Arizona's head became a quicksand of conflicting thoughts. She had too many thoughts to process and too many urges to repress. Arizona just remained frozen in her hiding spot and ignored the ache she was enduring in her now tired legs. She was so tormented that she barely noticed Calliope coming out of the water with a glistening trickle of liquid covering her curves.

It didn't take long for the woman to get dressed and leave the premises of the place where her intimacy, completely without her knowledge of course. When Arizona judged that Callie was far enough off in the distance, she allowed herself to fall on the ground in a sitting position. The palm of her shaky hand rested on her eyes and forehead as she did her best to regain control of her breathing. Every flash of reminiscence seemed to obstruct her airway. For someone who had learned so much about the human body in the past few weeks she definitely felt at loss when it came to her own body's current state.

In her confused and afflicted state Arizona still managed to pick her basket and although she was lost in her thoughts she continued to walk through the woods without hesitation. She noticed nothing of the journey back home. She entered by the kitchen's door, put her basket on the nearby table and walked out without acknowledging Bailey's questioning glare.

Arizona walked through the empty halls of their manor and finally reached the door of their study. She knew he was in there. She didn't knock or even announce herself when she walked in, simply pushing the door hard enough so that it would close behind her. She confidently closed the distance that separated her from her goal. Her hand firmly gripped her husband's shoulder, tugging on it to make him look at her. When he finally faced her, she grabbed his shirt and with both of her hands, she pulled him until their lips collided and with this started her efforts to evacuate the boiling sensation that made her mind waver on the borders of insanity.

* * *

Alexander had been working on some reports in his study when the door crashed open with an intensity he scarcely detected in the Robbins' manor. Before he had the chance to lift his head and seek out the unfamiliar disturbance, a hand was against his shoulder, a soft hand — his wife's hand, and in the very next second they were in minuscule fists against his shirt, tugging him around so that he had no choice but to move with her insistent demand, lest the wooden chair splinter and overturn. "Arizona?" He muttered in mild consternation when he pulled himself away from her fiery lips. About a million questions were threading through his mind at this moment. Where had this come, and why now? After all of his failed attempts at coaxing her into the physical actions of sacrament, what had suddenly turned the right switch on in her brain? Had he been studying the nervous system more carefully, perhaps the doctor would know, but as it was, he was hopelessly ignorant and unskilled in understanding the depths of a woman's mind.

Soon the questions stopped their fluent path through his own perception as Alexander conceded and returned the kiss. He was appeased and even ecstatic at her response; to be not only respected, but desired by his wife had been the secondary ambition all his life. Growing up in a family where hatred and judgements ran thick in the air, the aspiring young surgeon had sworn on one thing, and he'd done it over his sister's grave: that he would build a life of normalcy and do his best to succeed, bringing both money and good fortune to his family. His goal was to escape the asphyxiating label that had been placed on his family in the early days of his sister's murder. When his brother had lost himself to the strange and sinister voices Alexander had been so adamant at chasing and talking out of him, strangling their only little sister in the process, the atmosphere had been understandably tense and abhorrent in the unforgiving aftermath. He had watched them sentence Aaron to death, and later even attended the execution with a resolve of utmost defeat and depression. He had failed his family in ways that were indescribable, but all he could do then was carry on and try to keep the guilt-ridden demons permeating his heart at bay.

He had moved, starting a whole new life for himself in another town as an apprentice to an in-house physician, seeking the peace and prosperity of a world with no preconceived notions about his existence, preying to one day reveal the bare ugly skeleton and truth that would medically prove his brothers' innocence.. Alexander Karev had been something of an alluring mystery, the subject of curious infatuation to the villagers of the colony and for the most part, he preferred it to stay this way. A fresh start had always been his only destination. One of the few people who regarded him with such careful and attuned understanding was Arizona's father, and now, finally — miraculously, his daughter was seeing him in the same light.

Provoking the same enthusiastic acceptance from his wife had been for so long all Alexander had hoped for, all he had been waiting for. He had been determined not to push her, for fearing the worst and potentially sending her for the hills. With Arizona now suddenly receptive to him, he was delighted and no longer questioning the reasons behind this abnormal occurrence. The surgeon kissed his wife back deeply, submerging himself fully into this feeling of happiness and belonging, finding solace in knowing that his efforts and agreement to this marriage had finally reaped its reward.


	5. Entrance Hall

_**Entrance Hall**_

Few were the individuals who took pride in being part of the group that would be known as the builders of the Massachusetts Bay colony as the Robbins family was no denying that Arizona was proud of the honourable title, but a part of her had always found this notion to be slightly strange. Indeed being aware that your humble existence played a role in the construction of history or that your yearly celebrations contributed to the creation of a colony's traditions had always made the youngest Robbins highly aware of her responsibility as an individual. Arizona had been raised by a man who had taught her the importance of honor and duty. She wholeheartedly embraced all of those values, but they all came with the burdening weight that characterizes great responsibilities. That is why in this moment of celebration instead of being exhilarated by excitement Arizona was rather inflicted by nervosity.

The Massachusetts Bay's Colony had its fair share of social gatherings and celebrations, but only a few came close to being as popular and as sought after as the Robbins's yearly Autumn fest and ball. Only a few were invited to the prestigious supper and evening of festivities, but so much anticipation surrounded the event that it had become one of the main topics of the colony's conversations. What had started as her father's effort to strengthen the colony's bond before the difficult obstacles endured during winter-time had quickly become a grand tradition. As per usual men of importance were to be there, but this year it was not the prestigious list of guests that seemed to ignite people's curiosity, but rather the fact that for the first year since this tradition had been instituted the diner would not be hosted by the colonel and his wife, but rather by his newly married daughter and her husband.

As her mother and father had done before her, Arizona stood next to Alex near the entry hall in order to greet their guests properly. She had asked her parents if they wanted to accompany them in their greeting duties. Alex and she were the now the primary host of the annual event, but since the tradition would always remain her father's it seemed proper to ask her parents to be beside them. Secretly she had hoped that they would have accepted her offer; it would have made the transition a little less brutal, but a single look in her father's eyes and she had known. Easing the transition was not something he would abide to. "When I give a man an order I do not stand by him to hold his hand. You are a married woman now, Arizona, and it is only proper that you and Alexander start hosting this yearly event. This responsibility is yours now. It is when we don't assume our responsibilities in their entirety that the fears that came with them transition from nightmare to reality. " He had told her in a tone that assured her that this was his first, but also his closing argument.

The first guest to arrive, although Arizona didn't really consider him as one, was none other than her brother. Timothy entered the house with his usual light strut, bearing a wide grin and looking as handsome as ever in his he was finally in front of them he offered an overly dramatic bow that he followed by this statement, tainted in a ridiculous french accent. "All my courtesies are offered to you, Mister and Missus Karev." Arizona gave a sideways glance to her husband in order to catch his reaction to her brother's eccentricities. To her pleasant surprise the man smiled down at Timothy. Her husband had never been one to enjoy formalities, and so her brother's carefree approach was a refreshing start to the multitude of formal greetings they would have to offer in the next hour.

Tim then straightened his back and concentrated on his sister. "What? No comment on how handsome I look?" He asked with a quick twirl that was meant to show her all of his angles. Arizona couldn't refrain a small smile from growing on her lips.  
"You see, my brother, I worry about the impact such compliments could have on your already large head. I fear that even my talented and surgically gifted husband couldn't help you if your overly proud ego got any bigger."

"My wife is right. Complimenting you would only worsen your already worrying condition." Alex chipped in playfully. Arizona smiled at him. Occasions like these when they were playful around each other were rare and she found them to be very enjoyable.

In their playful banter they were siding together against Timothy, but as it was often the case her brother proved to be the cleverest of them all. "Well! As I understand it you are both agreeing on the fact that I should not be told about how handsome I look. What that really tells me is that although you will not say it, you both agree that I am in fact the most handsome man who will attend this evening's celebration." He shot them his proud dimpled smile and didn't let them react to his victory statement. The first guests had arrived, which meant that he could no longer monopolize their attention. "Now, Armada our family's honor depends on you. Please try not to destroy our reputation." He declared as if the world's entire fate rested on her shoulders. She rolled her eyes at the use of the surname he enjoyed to throw her way, but as his statement went on she felt the worry she had forgotten during their lighthearted interaction grow back to full force. She shot him a dirty look as he walked away with a sly grin which showed her that she was giving him the exact reaction he had hoped for. This only frustrated her more.

Alexander, who had witnessed the whole exchange, smiled down at her and clumsily patted her shoulder. "He's only trying to aggravate you. Don't worry; we can do this." He told her in a fleeting attempt to calm her — and it did. Slightly. However their moment was quickly broken by the line of guests that were starting to form in front of them.

Quickly they both fell into an easy pattern; first he would greet everyone with such a formal approach that even the Colonel would have to approve, and then she would smile and exchange pleasantries or comment on light topics as was expected of her. Arizona slowly felt her anxiety dissolve until she noticed the unexpected guests that ended the line. The breath she was taking suddenly left her body, her insides trembled and her ears started to ring; her physical reaction was consistent with the many descriptions she had read of enduring a blow to the stomach. As soon as her eyes caught sight of the tall, dark haired woman an ineffable feeling invaded the blond. The simple task of bringing her eyes back to the person standing before her required great effort, not to mention that bringing her full attention back to her greeting duties was an obvious lost cause.

She did her best to plaster a smile on her lips to maintain appearances. Luckily for Arizona, no one seemed to notice her preoccupied state, in fact Alexander seemed to be pleased by his wife's diminished loquacity; it made them go through the long line of guests in record time. Which, Arizona realised, wasn't such a good thing for her because it meant that she would soon find herself face to face with a woman she had been avoiding for the last few months.

Since the incident near the stream, Arizona Karev had gone out of her way to avoid the town's market or any other location where she would be forced to face Calliope Torres. If the simple notion that someday she may have to face the woman had made her nervous, it was nothing compared to the strength of the anxiety that rushed through her veins as the possibility inevitably became closer to reality. Between two guests she found the strength to nervously whisper to her husband: "I was not aware that we had invited the whole Torres family." She knew that Carlos would come; he was a well respected business man who's influence was quickly flourishing, but she was not aware that the invitation was extended to his daughter. Arizona cursed herself for not paying more attention to the guest list when it had been presented to her; she was sure that it had been the same list for the past year with only a few minor changes, such as the addition of Theodora Altman (of course that had been Timothy's doing). Alexander seemed quite confused by her simple admission. "Isn't Carlos always... Oh, you mean the Torres girl? Well, she's an O'Malley now. She's only here because I invited her self-claimed doctor of a husband in order to show him a thing or two about medicine." He explained with an arrogant smirk.

Strangely it is not the rivalry her husband shared with the youngest O'Malley son that stuck with Arizona, but rather the words: _she's an O'Malley now_. The small precision twirled in Arizona's mind in an infinite loop that was only interrupted by brief flashes of souvenirs she had fought actively to forget. _Calliope's fingers slowly unhooking the crochets of her dress, the piece of tissue falling on the ground, her fingers sliding down her hips to liberate her body from her undergarments. _The images were so vivid that she hooked her arm around Alexander's in order to prevent her body from betraying how affected her equilibrium really was. He gave her a subtle questioning look and she answered with the best reassuring smile she could manage, which apparently was convincing enough for him.

It was with her arm still hooked with Alexander's for support and with her mind still spinning with images of a naked Calliope that she had to face the woman in question. The notion that those images were actual souvenirs rather than some impudent creations of her imagination made the entire experience much more powerful and intrusive. Fragments of her imagination could have been dismissed, but what she was reliving now, the images that floated in her mind and the feelings they were causing could not be avoided. The best she could do was camouflage them and try to get through this as quickly as possible.

Thankfully it was a very dressed and, Arizona couldn't help but notice, gorgeous looking Calliope that was now standing in front of them. Her am was linked with a smaller man that Arizona deduced to be George O'Malley. The man had somewhat of a juvenile allure; his features were delicate and his eyes were kind, but it is on the woman standing next to him that Arizona's eyes lingered. Her dark hair was held up, her corsage embraced her waist and emphasised her curvaceous body. However it was the striking smile that graced not only the Spanish lady's mouth, but also her eyes that really immersed Arizona. _Her smile is like a contagious disease_, is the thought that immediately formed in Arizona's mind as she felt an unexpected smile grow on her own lips. As per usual it was Alexander that welcomed them.

"O'Malley, I'm glad you could join us. I make it my duty that this visit both pleasant, as well as educative." Clearly her husband couldn't wait to mock the man before them. The unexpected rivalry between the two was to be added to the sempiternal list of matters that her husband had yet, or maybe would never, discuss with her. O'Malley did not seem to be troubled by Alexander:  
"Dr Karev, treating people while we are surrounded by the chaos of war is a much different reality than treating them in the comfort of their homes." The man was in the military, and by the turn the conversation had taken Arizona assumed that the man administered medical cares to wounded soldiers.  
"Oh I gathered that. By the information you shared with me I reckon that my primary goal is to save them, while your primary goal gravitates toward aggravating their sufferings." Alexander smiled, pleased with his retort.

Arizona looked at Callie nervously, hoping that her husband's attitude wouldn't tarnish their arrival or be interpreted as hostile or unwelcoming. When Arizona's eyes finally connected with Calliope's, the already magnificent smile that had found domicile on the woman's lips widened. Witnessing the growing beauty of Calliope's grin as their eyes met made Arizona wonder if Calliope had been waiting for this moment. Arizona found herself destabilised by the silliness of her own thoughts, but while her mind condemned them as insipid and unworthy her body seemed to be very invested in what her intellect deemed trivial. If she hadn't been so submerged by sentiments, feelings, and the willpower required to tame and banish them, she would certainly have had a moment of fascination for the mind and body's ability to work in such dissonant ways. The taller woman seemed unaffected and even oblivious to the mounting tension that built between their husbands. It is Calliope who broke eye contact with Arizona. The break in their short lasted connection was surprisingly brutal. It left Arizona disoriented, it left her missing something — two feelings that merged together to form a visceral fear. Fear of these unexplainable reactions, fear of the intensity, fear of this woman's presence and fear of her absence. Fear had to be the most irrational of emotions and as such it caused the most aberrant and undeserved of reactions.

It took a second for Arizona to realise that Callie's eyes had left hers to drift towards Alexander. Her own eyes went in the same direction and she noticed that Alexander was looking at her expectantly. What he expected of her, she had no clue. "I'm sorry." She admitted, hoping that he would explain what he was waiting for. Alexander showed no sign of impatience. In fact his features showed a side to him she had yet to witness: a juvenile excitement. Like a little boy anxious to get a new responsibility. "I asked if you could entertain Mrs O'Malley for a moment while I bring her husband to my office to show him the forceps we just received from Europe. If we provide him with the right tools, perhaps then he could at least look like a doctor."  
Momentous panic took over the blond. He was asking her to be alone with Calliope. She had spent months avoiding the woman and all the confusion she had brought to her world and now he was asking for her to entertain the woman in order to give him time to mock her husband. Arizona had always treated the incident in the meadow as an immoral incident, an incident that had pushed her to seek repentance, and she had to admit, release in her husband's arms. Ever since that instant she had make it her duty to pay more attention to him, to give him what he required. She was not to stray in confusion or give into the impulses that made her want to avoid intimacy with him. She was his wife and she would do all that was in her power to fulfil her duty. That is the lesson she had decided to take away form the incident. It had been a firm decision, until now...

Until Calliope's reappearance in her life had brought her back to the meadow, to the confusing physical reactions and the fight it conjured between the forces of her mind and the impulses of her body.

"Tradition dictates that after greeting all of our guests, we are to lead them to the dinning room so we can serve dinner." She stated desperately hoping that he would readjust his plan.

His mouth twitched in the typical way that betrayed his annoyance. "Traditions are to be considered ,not followed like the law." He simply retorted before gesturing for O'Malley to follow him towards his office where Arizona was sure he would present the man with nothing but disregard.

The arm she had hooked around his fell to her side, limp and abandoned. Efforts of avoidance are often proven vain; apparently that was one of the lessons transmitted by her father that she had yet to learn. Fear was what led Arizona's behavior. Since running physically wasn't an acceptable solution, Arizona's apprehensions made her opt for a more hypocritical kind of flight reflex.

Calliope, apparently unaffected by her husband's disposition and oblivious to Arizona's conflicting thoughts and behaviour, was still harbouring her radiant smile. "You know when July came I waited for you to come and make me taste your raspberries like you had promised." It wasn't a reproach or even a criticism; the tone was playful and light. Yet it was met by a rather dour expression. She couldn't risk familiarity.

"I found myself rather busy around that time of year." She answered sardonically, making it seem like she thought berry picking was a lower task for a woman of her stature. _If only she knew what happened the day I tried to keep my promise._

Calliope's smile melted; a sight that tortured Arizona to her core. She was obviously confused by Arizona's behaviour, which made Arizona feel bad, but it also meant that she was doing the right thing. If she couldn't run, she had to make Callie run and being unfriendly seemed like the proper approach.

"That may explain why I have not seen you at the market in the last few months." She added.  
_She noticed my prolonged absence. "_Yes it does explain it." She said, trying to sound unimpressed by Calliope's easy assumption.

The effect was instantly visible. The dark haired woman's eyes were filled with confusion. She shook her head a few times and opened her mouth to say something, slowly closing it before any words escaped it. She remained silent, her brown eyes searching Arizona, probably for any sign that would help her understand.

Arizona stood still and equally silent, working actively to convince herself that this was the right thing to do. All that would link her to images of this woman naked had to be buried under layers of anything that could separate them. She couldn't explain anything Calliope made her feel, but she was convinced that severing all contact was the best option. It was the only appropriate thing to do, but it was also so difficult that her insides seemed to tie into asphyxiating knots.

Silence lasted and both women stared at each other, one trying to understand what was happening and the other trying to understand why she was making it happen. George O'Malley came back surprisingly quickly; perhaps he had grown tired of being mocked by Alexander. Arizona didn't properly register what happened next. Calliope walked away with George and as she did she looked over her shoulder, giving the blond a look that made her doubt everything. Everything she had done, every decision she had made since that day; every single thing she thought she knew was shattered. She couldn't be close to Calliope — it was too confusing — but now she knew she couldn't hurt her either. Even if she had good intentions, being the cause of such pain for Calliope was not something Arizona could bare. She had to readjust her tactic.

As if on cue, Alexander announced that supper would be served and that everyone should follow them into their spacious dining room. She moved with difficulty as though the trap she had set in her head correlated with her ability to walk freely. She sat next to her husband, forever thankful that her officious tendencies helped her create what she thought to be an impenetrable facade.

She wasn't really paying attention to her surroundings; her responses were automated; she smiled politely when Isobel placed the first course in front of her, and she laughed when she heard the people surrounding her laughing. Her demeanor wasn't sincere, but at least she seemed delighted to be where she was — until between the last two courses Alexander stood up. These festivities had been organized to strengthen the bond before winter, but this year they also had an announcement to make, an announcement her husband was getting ready to share and which her inner turmoil had made her forget. Suddenly self conscious and anticipating the guest's reaction, she sat straighter in her chair. Looking up at Alexander, she offered him a silent nod of approval. He took her hand and rose from his chair without even having to tap his glass with his knife to get the room silent. Arizona looked at her husband intently as he opened his mouth to address the attentive crowd.  
"First I would like to thank you all for your presence." He sounded more hesitant than Arizona had anticipated. "Don't worry Timothy, I won't make you wait for your desert too long." He winked in his brother-in-law's direction.

"Good, because my leftover peas and fork-atapult are already aimed at you. "

The room's laughter seemed to ease Alexander. "I simply wish to share the knowledge that our party is attended by the tiniest of guests, a guest that will hopefully be able to join us at this table in a few months." Arizona smiled at her husband's choice of words. The fascination in Alexander's voice was obvious; they both had endless interest for the minuscule life that lived inside her stomach. Only a few had shared their congratulations with them when the loud clattering of dishes hitting the ground completely stole the attention from them.


	6. Virulent Skies

**Virulent Skies**

The plate crashed with a deafening sound to the stone floor, splintering in several sparkling pieces before spinning in an assortment of directions. The room froze in silence, so quiet you wouldn't even be able to ascertain the sound of a pin dropping against the walls. Isobel Stevens' face was one of utmost horror, mouth shaping a perfect 'o' as her brown eyes grew wide in her disbelief. Never once could Alexander remember seeing her drop a piece of cutlery during his stay in the Robbins' manor, so this was an extreme shock to not only the blond but her resident inhabitants. "I- oh my goodness, I apologize. I will clean this mess up at once, I - " But her frantic voice was cut off at the split realization that her hand was red. Having bent down to reclaim what fragments of glass she could easily pick up with her mangled hand, the maid was eccentric and apologetic in her hurry to save herself from the humiliation.

"Don't be an idiot, you're hurt." Alexander finally admitted, having slowly found himself resurfacing from the dumb and awestruck disbelief at what had just transpired. This surely was not the anticipated reaction he had been expecting while envisioning the good news being shared with their friends and family. Deciding to do the right thing and excuse both him and Isobel, he rose from his chair. "I'll be right back. Feel free to continue this celebration without me." And nodding to his wife with the gentlest of encouraging smiles, for he was still so incredibly ecstatic with the knowledge that she was carrying his first child, Alexander stepped back from the chair and guided the quivering blond away from the eyes of everyone at the table, heading towards the kitchen.

Bailey was still in the room, bustling towards the pair with a worried glint in her eyes. She had obviously heard the offending noise and had been deliberating on whether or not she should make an appearance in the diner. Alexander was grateful that she had refrained. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stand any more unnecessary attention being drawn to the situation.

Isobel was still muttering apologies under her breath, eyes half shut as both Alexander and Bailey helped her into the chair that was used to reach the pots. Gently taking her hand, the doctor analyzed the deep gash with careful and experienced eyes. It had stopped bleeding, which was at least a good sign that the wound wasn't very deep, but the glass had to be removed. "Watch her for a minute, please, Bailey, I need to go to my office." He took the long hall so as to avoid the chattering crowd now resuming their festivities in the main room. As he walked, Alexander shook his head to himself and exhaled a breath he had been holding close to his chest. He took his time, although not so long that it would be considered unethical or even medically worrisome, to retrieve a spare set of tweezers he'd kept hidden with his other materials —just long enough to gather his wits and clear his head.

He returned with a stern look in his eyes, dismissing Bailey with a request that she please clean up the mess Isobel left, in which she did without complaint. As soon as they were alone in the kitchen, Isobel opened her mouth to speak: "Sir, I am so sorry. I did not mean at all to be of - "

"Be quiet." Alexander interrupted with a tone of bitterness in his voice. It wasn't a request, she knew, but an order. "Your actions in that diner tonight, Isobel, were inappropriate and unwarranted. Is it your intention, girl, to make a complete fool of yourself in front of an audience?"

She bit her lip, perhaps to stem the flow of tears he knew were fighting to roll down her cheeks. Deep down, Dr. Karev knew that he was being harsh but the stern approach was well needed, and what was more, extremely deserved.

"My hand slipped, Sir. I am so deeply sorry."

Alexander spoke again as he took her hand and carefully began the process of scouring the open flesh for any signs of glass, the field of vision now clean due to Bailey's efforts while he had been briefly absent. "Don't insult my intelligence, Isobel. I know exactly what you were doing." As her eyes furrowed in feigned confusion, he snapped in shallow tones, being ever careful to keep his voice low. "The hand brush as you served my meal? Not an accident, I'm assuming, although you do seem to have a clumsy demeanor around me. The leaning, the eagerness to fill my glass. Your sudden inability to hold a plate when you learn Mrs Karev is now bearing our child."

He knew he was undoubtedly correct in his assumptions. Even more then the added evidence he'd been collecting. not only on this evening in particular, but since his recent introduction into the household, Alexander had sensed that the maid held him in high regard, even more so than the Colonel in her own way. Her rosy cheeks when he was kind to her were an obvious distraction, but he had been silent thus far and not brought the consistent proof to her attention, deciding instead to grant her the privacy to maintain her affections without interference. But now, now she was making scenes in front of their guests and failing to perform her duties correctly, and so now it was time for Alexander to say something.

"I really... I sincerely hope you will forgive me, Mr. Karev. I am so, so sorry for being so..." She seemed to be struggling for a moment to locate the word. "Disappointing." The way in which she uttered the one syllable was disconcerting; he instantly felt horrid for making her feel this way.

"You're not a disappointment. But the answer, as you probably already guessed," he paused a second to focus, turning the tweezers agilely in one direction to free a shard of glass; the action caused the blond to wince slightly, "The answer is no." She nodded solemnly to herself as Alexander went about wrapping her hand with a soft rag, the contrast between his large hands against her much smaller ones a remarkable sight to see.

At that moment there came footsteps and he craned his head around to see the dark haired Miranda Bailey returning, her hands full of what remained of the broken dish with the fragments piled high. Alexander pulled himself away from the maid by standing from his chair, securing a position of dominance in her presence once again, giving the pair of watchful eyes curiously assessing them nothing to prey on. "I should return to to the party," he said to both women, although his eyes were still on Isobel. "If the pain is too much, see me after. But for now, maybe you should assist Bailey with the dessert, which I think should be served soon?" He finished the question by addressing her.

Bailey nodded before offering Isobel an encouraging little smile. "It's fresh and nearly ready to be served, Mr. Karev."

"Excellent. Thank you for your hard work this evening, both of you ladies." It was not often that Alexander offered anything that remotely resembled amiability, but tonight and in this particular moment the surgeon was feeling a little off his game. While Isobel returned his smile and whispered a very quiet 'you're welcome', Alexander heard something relatively different from the mouth of the second woman as he turned away, although he was going to pretend that it had met deaf ears.

The older maid narrated for herself "And then Miranda Bailey said 'Let there be dessert', for only she could see the young truths these children could not recognize."

* * *

After dessert, Alexander led the men into the private lounge that had previously been privately owned and commandeered by the Colonel alone. He had to get used to being the man of the house now. The traditional reigns of the Robbins' annual visit and dinner had been transitioned to the hands of a man who knew very little about such formalities. He tried to do his best to cover the truth up while sitting down in a green velvet armchair. Before long the cigars were passed around eagerly. Alexander noted the brief hesitance in George O'Malley facade before he hesitantly picked his own cigar from the box. The Colonel had to teach the poor man to help light it, all while Mr. Karev sat with eyes lit with amusement from the fire flickering in the corner grate.

"My daughter... she won't like to be with a man who doesn't know how to manhandle a cigar." Carlos commented before chuckling heartily to himself. "Just pulling your leg, there, you've got it now."

Alexander let out a disguised snort from behind his closed fist. The sound caught George's attention almost immediately.

"Something amusing, Dr. Karev?"

"No, not at all Lieutenant O'Malley."

"Then what, may I ask, seems to be the problem?"

Alexander debated on voicing his thoughts, even stopping to send averse looks in the direction of the other men in the room. Finally, decision made, he leaned forward in his chair and said in a gruff voice that was bordering a whisper, "Well, it's just... you seem like the kind of guy who gets killed cleaning his own gun. Not exactly battle material, if you ask me. Look at the size of you."

Carlos interrupted. "It's the size of the heart that matters most, Mr. Karev. I'd expect you of all people to understand that."

He regretted his bold truthfulness right away. Even as the one hosting this special party, it was clear that he still didn't hold the right to say such things without actual knowledge of the subject at hand. The very last thing Alexander Karev wanted was a reason for Carlos Torres to dislike him. In fact he suspected that most civilians of the colony would feel the same.

"My apologies." he muttered under his breath, but of course the eye contact between the two young men should have been fatal, if looks that is, could in fact kill.

After that, the conversation was divided as everyone intermingled. Carlos was speaking quietly to George under his breath, perhaps giving him tips to survive Alexander guessed. He was so invested in looking around and making sure that their guests were enjoying themselves that he didn't expect to hear the voice of the Colonel in his ear.

"Well so far you and my daughter have made this annual event a success, if I might say so."

"Thank you, Colonel." Alexander said quietly, nodding his gratitude politely. It was not often that the two had a moment alone to discuss matters. Alexander remembered well what it had been like, trying to avoid the awkward questions as he found his place in the colony. Arizona's father had definitely helped him find his groove, and if there was anyone he would listen to for guidance, it was certainly him.

* * *

The men followed Alexander's lead and went into the study where they would smoke, drink and discuss matters that they deemed ungraspable by the other gender. As it was awaited of her, Arizona took the ladies to their salon where they were to share tea and discuss matters that were surprisingly often similar to those discussed by males. Keeping her mind on her hosting duties Arizona gravitated towards the different ladies, accepting their congratulations for the child to come and managing get involved in a few conversations — one of which was interrupted or rather joined by Calliope Torres. Luckily it wasn't Arizona's turn to address the circle so when the woman politely inserted herself in the conversation, it made the blond's discomfort less obvious.

"It is an interesting book I agree, but it seems to contradict some of his previous work. I find the inconsistency disconcerting." Calliope commented concerning an observation Addison Montgomery had made about a book she had recently read. Although the comment was directed at Addison, Arizona couldn't help but notice that Calliope's eyes were on her, as if the woman was studying her reaction.

Not missing a beat and seeing the possible subjacent meaning of Calliope's remark, Arizona retorted, "I see how his recent work can be interpreted as indecisive or inconsistent, but sometimes we realize that our previous approach was ill-advised and thus we have to readjust for the greater good." Her own eyes poured into Callie's dark ones, challenging her to respond.

"How pretentious must the author be to pretend that his actions are working towards the best interests of the reader?" Was the powerful question the Spanish lady said with her eyes never flinching from Arizona's.

Arizona's forehead wrinkled as she thought of an answer. She opened her mouth, but her opinion did not seemed worthy to share. It was pretentious, she had been foolishly pretentious, she had made a decision for both of them based on an incident, based on her inadvertently witnessing something she shouldn't have witnessed. Silence was thick when she looked at the ladies around their circle. They all had their eyes on her, waiting to hear her response to Calliope's question. The truth was she didn't have an answer. Arizona looked around for inspiration and caught sight of an empty plate of biscuits.

"Oh, let me fill this!" She took the plate and headed towards the kitchen, knowing that filling empty plates was not her responsibility. She entered the kitchen, dropped the plate on the counter and gripped the cold surface with both of her hands. Was she turning this thing with Calliope into a bigger storm than it really was? Maybe her guilt was disproportionating the whole situation, or perhaps she had confused the thrill of living a forbidden situation with more complex emotions. Her time alone was quickly interrupted when the door flew open to let a clearly upset Calliope enter the kitchen. Arizona didn't have time to react to the intrusion before Callie closed the kitchen door and walked towards her.

"I don't understand you!" She started off with one finger pointing in the direction of Arizona's chest. "I serve you at the market and we have a pleasant conversation and you tell me that you'll someday make me taste the best berries, but then not only do you not follow through with your promise, but you don't even come back to the market! You were _busy_, but busy people need to be fed too. And... and I know you. I know you love to pick your own fish. I noticed how you spend minutes in front of the stands to study everything and pick your products, how you touched your vegetables before you choose them and how you smell your fruits before you put them in your basket. I don't understand why you stopped coming! Did I not serve you properly?" She asked, her face demonstrating confusion, frustration and anger. Arizona wanted to reassure her, to tell her that she should not blame herself, that she was the only one at fault — but she couldn't let a single word escape her lips. She even considered admitting to her indiscretion and asking for forgiveness, but she had no time to formulate a word before Calliope was talking again.

"Then I'm invited to this prestigious event in your home on the first year that you are hosting. I thought, maybe...I don't know. What I thought doesn't matter since clearly you are uninterested and even irritated by my presence. You smiled when I arrived, but quickly your smile turned into a frown and now you can't even tolerate me to be in the same conversation as you?"

Was that last part a statement or a question? Arizona couldn't be sure. Calliope was inches away from her. A small lift of her arm and Arizona's hand would have slid against Calliope's skin, but in that moment the inches that separated them felt like the most infinite of distances. A distance caused by confusion, unspoken words and other forms of conundrums. An ardent desire to eliminate this burdening distance pressed against Arizona's chest. Slowly her foot slid against the floor and she took a hesitant step closer to the other woman. As she opened her mouth to speak she realised how dry it was, how she felt her pulse quivering at the base of her neck and how her eyes were unable to leave Calliope's.

"Calliope, I..." It was either the beginnings of an apology, an explanation, a declaration, or even an admission, but it didn't matter because Calliope never got to hear it. The door opened slowly, a hesitant intruder making an appearance. As if caught doing something wrong, Arizona took a step back and broke eye contact.

Miranda Bailey entered the room. Aware of Arizona's presence, she stated: "Missus Karev, your husband just announced that the ball will start shortly.."

"Thank you Miranda." The blonde responded without losing a beat. She didn't know what she was scared of, but out of fear Arizona remained silent as she headed outside the kitchen. She gave Calliope one last furtive look and a shy smile as she walked by her, "I'm sorry." She mouthed, too late for Calliope to hear.

Arizona walked into the vast living room they had turned into a ballroom for the yearly event. The gentlemen they had invited to provide the musical ambiance were getting their instruments ready to play the first notes of the soirée. The sound of music mixed with laughter and happy chatter. It appeared that their guests were enjoying the celebrations as much as they had in the past, an observation that reassured Arizona. She could tolerate her personal night being as confusing as it was tensed, but a public failure of her first attempt at hosting was not something her pride would easily recover from. Arizona knew that personal afflictions had no weight compared to public humiliation. Reality was secondary; appearances were primordial. Deceit was the rule at a time where judgement was the sentence.

Like a woman of her time, Arizona Karev stood gracefully in the room with a smile on her lips. She was definitely getting better at dissimulating her inherent feelings and the numerous thoughts that came with them. She didn't stay alone very long. Soon she felt her husband's hand sliding down her arm until it reached her wrist. "May I have this dance?" He asked, with a charming and proud smirk. She answered with a smile, and he led her to the dance floor.

They danced like they had both been taught to, him probably recently, her when she was a young girl. He moved fluently but also in a calculated fashion. It seemed like his movements when he danced mirrored his movements when he operated. The dance was slow and repetitive, her swaying becoming almost automatic as slowly Arizona felt the tension that had invaded her leave. Being with him felt strangely safe and easy; at least with him, she knew how to behave. She knew what was expected of her. With Callie everything seemed, or rather _felt _convoluted. Every encounter was a catalyst for emotions, every move was a risk, and every word a variable that could potentially equate to more complications.

As they danced, she looked around the room. People seemed to be having a pleasant time. She saw her mother and father dancing a few feet from them. She saw Theodora Altman laughing at something that was happening on the opposite side of the room. She could only assume that Timothy was somehow behind the young woman's amusement. Derek Shepherd and his soon to be wife Addison were also on the dance floor. She could only see his face. He was smiling widely, but the smile did not seem to be caused by the moment he was sharing with Addison. Arizona followed his gaze and her eyes found an equally smiling Meredith Grey. Arizona frowned suspiciously, but when her eyes went back to Derek, the moment was gone since the dance had made it so that his back was now facing Meredith. Arizona didn't have time to wonder about the strange interaction she had just witnessed. Her eyes had caught sight of the door just in time to see Calliope walking in.

The dark haired woman sauntered in proudly, bearing a smile that wouldn't let anyone guess that just minutes ago she had been yelling at the night's hostess. Arizona's eyes followed Calliope as she made her way through the room and found her husband. He smiled at her before offering a hand out to escort his wife to the dance floor. Seeing them dancing together felt strange. Calliope moved easily, but George seemed less comfortable: his movements were stiff and brusque. She was taller than him by a few inches which only added to the strangeness. Arizona blamed the discomfort she felt as she watched them dance on those few observable differences.

"I think the evening is proving to be a success." She heard her husband affirm just loud enough for her to hear.

Arizona forced her eyes to leave the O'Malleys and make another tour of the room. "I think we managed to preserve our family's honor so far." She agreed, a subtle smile on her features in memory of her brother's earlier comment. _Our family,_ it meant more than just the two of them, now that they had a child on the way. Alex and Arizona shared a brief smile before she saw his eyes darken with a small hint of worry. "The winds are getting stronger."

She had to wait for the dance to permit her to look out the window to confirm her husband's statement. "They are." She affirmed, and by the look from the window the trees were dancing violently in the Autumn winds.

"I should go check the barn to make sure all the horses are sheltered."

"Yes." She answered, knowing that her father would appreciate her husband's precociousness.

Arizona watched his back as Alexander walked towards the door. Another woman would probably have been hurt by the lack of manners he had shown by leaving her in the middle of a dance, but Arizona wasn't. She would never blame him for honoring his responsibilities. She frowned in surprise when she saw Calliope catch up with her husband, exchanging a few words and then following him outside in the room. She was about to follow them when someone tapped on her shoulder.

"Would you, my dear sister, give me the pleasure of sharing this dance?" Timothy asked with a bow. Hesitant, she looked back towards the door. What good would it do to follow?

"Want us to go spy on them?" Timothy asked, his voice full of childish excitement. For a moment Arizona worried that her impulse to follow them had been obvious to all their guests, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Her brother had always had an uncanny and very irritating capacity to deduce his sister's thoughts.

She rolled her eyes and gave him her hand to signify that she was indeed giving him the honor of this dance. "You are are so well behaved." He said referring to her choosing to dance with him rather than tangle into her probably preposterous idea to spy on her husband. "And boring." He added with a teasing smile.

Arizona ignored him and concentrated on her movements. This dance had a faster rhythm. It didn't take long for her to get comfortable with the repetitive movements. In no time her mind was back to her husband and Calliope. She couldn't help but wonder about their short interaction and where they were right this instant. The notion that they could be interacting somewhere close made Arizona very uncomfortable. She couldn't exactly identify _why_ she felt threatened by the idea, but she did. Perhaps she was afraid that he would treat her similar to the way he had been treating her husband all evening, or maybe she thought he would ruin the slim chances she had to mend their friendship. If it could even be called a friendship? Maybe it was more of a potential friendship than anything else.

She closed her eyes as she continued to dance. It was like every encounter with Calliope or every thought she had about the woman made her mind spin into a spectrum of different ways. There never seemed to be a definite answer.

"Where is that deep mind of yours taking you?" Timothy asked, his voice full of concern. Arizona opened her eyes and looked at him. She wanted to talk to him, to confide in him, but she wasn't even sure she could even find the words to explain her predicament. A state of confusion is unexplainable. She smiled weakly and shook her head to dismiss her thoughts.

"Why aren't you dancing with Theodora?" She wondered aloud, trying to deflect the attention.

To her great relief Timothy seemed oblivious to her avoidance technique. "Well I wouldn't want to alarm her with my out-of-norm dance capacities."

"You should dance with her, she's looking at you." Arizona observed as she saw Theodora Altman looking their way. She felt an instant change in her brother's body. He stiffened under her hands and his movements became uncoordinated. Arizona was about to tease him until she caught a glimpse of his face. His expression was tormented.

"What is it?" Now it was her turn to be worried.

She saw his jaw tighten and Timothy seemed to swallow with difficulty. It was only when she felt his hand pressing harder against her hip that she noticed that she wasn't dancing anymore. "Move." He urged her. She looked at him, blue eyes full of questions as she tried her best to dance.

He took a deep breath before he started to talk. "Tomorrow I'm leaving." It was all he had to say for Arizona to understand. He was going on a military mission. She felt as though her her lungs were obstructed. Suddenly her worry concerning Calliope became insignificant. Worrying about a relationship or the lack of a relationship she had with the woman had become trivial compared to what she now might lose.

He was leading the dance now, and she only moved when she felt his hand pressuring her into a designated direction. "That look..." He sighed.

She looked at him, her eyes full of confusion. "That look you are giving me right now." He gave her a few seconds to let her register what he was talking about. "It is the reason why I am not dancing with Theodora Altman." His voice felt heavy in her ears, like it was full of the regrets that were still to come. "I spent my whole childhood seeing that look in our mother's eyes whenever father was away. A look burdened with worry, sadness and preemptive grief."

Arizona nodded slowly. She knew exactly what look he was talking about. A part of her felt ashamed about the fact that she was apparently mirroring that same look right now.

"How could I ever be cruel enough to let another woman have that look because of me?" He asked with a shaking voice. As her brain slowly un-numbed itself from the primary shock of her brother's news, Arizona's grip on his hand tightened. She was too shaken to talk, too dizzy to even be fully aware of what he was telling her.

"Why?" The question had left her lips before she even remembered thinking it. "It is my responsibility, my duty and I will fight for what I believe in." He said in a stronger tone than previously. Responsibility? How could risking his life for some ideals and ideas be her brother's responsibility? There was only one answer to that and it was because he had decided to make it his responsibility. She was angry at him for that. Hadn't she just had a similar thought about responsibility and her husband, how she couldn't blame him for abandoning her in the middle of a dance to take care of said responsibility? Comparing the two situation may have seemed absurd to some, but to Arizona it felt men were only seeing that their responsibilities were taken care of, but one of them had made his much greater than most men.

"Hey Armada, I will not let this night become our last goodbye. I cannot leave my niece or nephew to be raised by my boring sister and her grumpy husband." Timothy smiled down at her.

Arizona couldn't gather the strength to smile back. She stopped dancing, brought him closer to her so she could kiss his cheek and looked into his kind blue eyes. "I love you, imbecile."

They remained frozen on the dance floor for a few seconds, her hand on his cheek, trying to convey with her eyes all the words she couldn't find the force to say. When she noticed that the couples who were dancing around them started to silently question their immobility she offered her brother what she wanted to be a supportive smile and politely excused herself as she walked herself through the crowd, heading for the direction of the front door.

* * *

Their footsteps slipped and stumbled as they descended down the hill towards the barn, feeling the high winds at their back. Calliope's hair was flashing with the strong breeze, entangling itself in an alluring way that looked very fairy-tale esc against the night sky. She had offered to assist Alexander in the barn due to her experience with animals, and also because she had felt confused with her predicament and needed to stretch her legs and take a break. "Watch your step here, there's a hole." Alexander, or rather Arizona's husband as she often had to remind herself, warned her with a hand gesture to outline the danger. With a brief nod of gratitude, the brunette sidestepped the indicated portion of grass and deftly made her way to flat ground. Walking beside the man who was about the same height as her, she offered him a sideways glance of inspection. This was the man Arizona Robbins had married. He was, forgive her bluntness, not what she would have expected the blond to choose, not that they were often — if ever — given the option of choice in these domestic decisions. Sure he was a handsome looking man with intelligent brown eyes, but he held himself in such little regard that it seemed as though he did not quite deem himself suitable to such immaculate surroundings. He was at least gentlemanly when it was required of him, but for the most part Calliope fund him to be more of the type of man to be found in the farming sections of the colony, not here on one of the biggest pieces of privately owned land.

They said not a single word to one another until they had reached the front door of the barn. Not that they would have been able to, for the winds were now so violent that she could see trees bending from its power, threatening to snap at the smallest of inflections. All at once, Alexander thrust an arm out to stop Calliope from taking another step. He nodded to the side, away from the wooden door. "Stand over there in case this opens at the speed of light." She nodded and hurriedly moved to stand where he had indicated. Sure enough, as soon as Mr. Karev released the bolt, the upper part of the door swung open so fast that he had to duck, lest the solid barrier strike him right across the face. She could hear the wind whistling right along with it as Callie remained quiet, mouth open as if to ask if he was alright, but by the looks of it Alexander had not been hit. With a few quick movements, he had straightened himself again and reached his arm over the last half of the door, opening it so that they could run in and seek temporary protection from the developing storm outside.

"Okay, we have to move fast because the night is fading. Soon we won't be able to see." He spoke more to himself, but Calliope nodded. She was more than capable as well as aware of the time frame and what needed to be done in such situations. Having worked for her father since he had first started the market, she had often assisted him in bringing the goats and other animals to shelter.

"Where are the horses?" She asked matter-of-factly. Her dark eyes followed Alexander as he crossed the barn, deliberately directing her away from what she could only presume led to the infamous dissection room. Across from her, he opened the door that led to the fields. Calliope was granted the perfect view of the deepening black sky, and from a fair distance what looked like two horses cantering back and forth in their spirited panic, their mane and tails flying like silver in their wake.

He threw her a rope from a hanging nail on the wall. Callie was surprised at how well prepared she'd been for the action, catching it without even a flinch. Collecting herself, the young Spanish woman drew a ribbon from around her wrist and quickly tied her long black hair into a tight bun. She was now in business mode and determined to help. Alexander, along with his piece of rope draped across his shoulder, allowed the woman to pass him through to the ferocious atmosphere outside before quickly shutting the door and following her out. She noticed that he was keeping his chin ducked down low to prevent the biting air from stinging his eyes, and she quickly followed suit, tracing her navigation by watching her footfalls on grass while listening to the neighing as a way to know when they were close to the stressed animals.

At long last, they reached the horses. Alexander had been trying to advise Calliope on the best way to approach the silver gelding, but trusting only her instincts over the voice of a man she could barely now hear anyway, the Spanish woman melded her lips into a narrow shape, enough to relinquish a sound she could not even hear herself, but the horse's ears perked, hooves flailing in their attempt to see her. "There, there," she muttered gently, offering a hand out, palm up with fingers outstretched and flattened. The horse seemingly shuddered in relief, coming to a momentary stop mid-run to stare at her, nostrils flaring. It's muscles, she could see, were heaving in its chest from the energy it had spent from running in random directions. It seemed to be pondering to itself whether or not this stranger could be trusted, but eventually the greyback snorted. The billowing hot air warmed her tingling palm as Callie massaged the horse's nose, gradually moving up to rub between his eyes and over across his sweat-stained neck. After a pause, she tentatively began to inch the rope around his withers, successfully wrapping it in a loop.

"Wow," a voice spoke from behind her. Looking back, the Spaniard met eyes with Alexander where he was staring at her with awestruck incredulity in the field. "No one's been able to catch him so fast. He's supposed to be untameable, but Ari-" A gust of wind took over the scene between them, and what Alexander had been trying to tell her was lost on Calliope. However, the beginning of what she had almost heard struck a cord inside of her. Had he been about to say Arizona? This horse and Arizona... were they connected? Her brown eyes shifted back to the grey horse whose body was still trembling beneath Calliope's soothing fingertips. She waited politely as Alexander circled the chestnut horse , doing a kind of dance with it to keep him or her from bolting. Eventually, after about five minutes, he managed to get a rope around its neck.

"I'm not a horse person," he later admitted while they walked the animals side by side towards the barn. "Where I was born, I would have been lucky to even afford one." Apparently the frustration he had endured at taming the animal into a docile state was forcing the man to be open, something Calliope had heard from fellow villagers that he was not prone to do. Perhaps this was a good time to find out some more information from Mr. Karev, particular information that Callie was now practically dying to get her hands on.

"It comes with practice," she tried to assure him, reaching forward to adjust the way he'd gripped the rope so tightly around the chestnut's neck. "Loosen this up a little. Sometimes less is more."

After a couple silent moments in which the pair simply walked the horses inside and into their stalls, Calliope continued to watch as Mr. Karev went about doing random chores: shutting the windows, filling up feed buckets with grain she distinctly recognized from the market. It was awhile before she could work up the courage her conscience was calling upon. With a soft clear of her throat, of which would probably go unrecognized due to the booming thunder now rumbling outside, the Spaniard temptress opened her mouth to speak. "Congratulations again on your expectant new arrival."

She watched as he paused in the midst of bending over to wash his hands. "Thank you." He mumbled something inaudible but she could just make out the pride in his gruff vocals.

"I imagine that she must be so tried, your wife." _Arizona_, the name, while not pronounced, was still caressing her tongue. "I suppose so." Alexander responded with disinterest. Calliope could feel her excitement rising in her chest as she realized how easy this might be after all.

"I only ask because I haven't spotted her at the market for some time now. But then she probably has Isobel running errands now that she's pregnant and needs her rest." She watched as the man nodded thoughtfully, completely ignorant as to what he was actually informing her of. "Oh yeah. Yeah, she's been getting the maid to go to the market. Not because she's tired though, I don't think. Although maybe the crowds wear her out. She's still been out berry picking."

It was about all the brunette needed to know. While continuously stroking the mane of Nico, she allowed her thoughts to run rampant in her already befuddled and thoroughly confused mind. While she wasn't usually one to think so highly of herself as to expect herself to be the sole reason behind Arizona's seemingly abrupt ignorance to the deal they had made with each other, the blond's sudden and unexpected attitude certainly did not serve to debunk the theory that this was intentional.

But why? Why should she have reason to avoid her? Why all of a sudden, without a second's notice should she choose to be so antagonistic to Calliope and blatantly avoid all possible contact with her? It just did not logically make sense. Had she said something to offend her? Had there been a miscommunication of some sort? If Arizona Karev could only grant her the chance to speak and share her side of the story, give her a chance to actually understand the situation and sudden distance between what had started out looking like a potential friendship, maybe then the Spaniard would be able to wrap her head around the situation. As such, right now while petting the baffling girl's ride, Calliope hadn't the faintest clue as to what she should do.

"Why do you ask?"

The woman jumped slightly from where she was standing. In her tangled thoughts, she hadn't even been paying attention to Alexander and as such, had not been expecting his returning curiosity. Calliope quickly managed to collect herself and ascertain a believable and even likely offer had the situation not been such a mystery.

"Oh, well I was just going to offer... there is a service my father offers at the market for the elderly, the sick, or anyone who needs help with their purchases. I would be more than happy to deliver directly to yours and Missus Karev's house."

This polite shock in the doctor's eyes made her smile. "Really? That would be so nice of you! I'll be sure to let Arizona know."

"It would be my pleasure." The brunette mumbled somewhat hesitantly underneath her breath, although from the outside she simply smiled and nodded, waiting on him to finish his work before they could head back to the festivities.

She remained quiet as she followed Alexander out of the barn, patiently waiting for him to lock up before the pair continued to walk up the hill towards the house. From the inside, Calliope could see a light flickering in the window, revealing the dance where it looked like everyone was having a great time. She even caught a brief glimpse of her husband until suddenly the sound of a voice being cleared made her turn her attentions back to where she stood.

At first she looked to the side, noticing that Mr. Karev's attention was elsewhere. Following his gaze in the dark, Calliope was surprised to see the familiar figure of Arizona out by the garden. She was standing stock still with her back to them. Confusion struck the brunette, but one look back to the woman's husband and Calliope was assured that this was not her problem. He even invited her back into the house with a curt nod and a whisper of, "Let's just leave her be", before her eyebrows furrowed and Calliope paused on the threshold.

* * *

The cold wind filled her lungs, but no matter how penetrating her breaths were, they could never eradicate the suffocating feeling that clung to her since Timothy told her about his imminent departure. She had left the ballroom and had walked outside the house. Their guests had been left on their own and although she knew it went against etiquette and good manners, she couldn't find it in her to worry about it. A short absence from a social gathering didn't compare to the possibility of a life marked by the permanent absence of her brother. The night's silence was broken by the sound of wind billowing through the leaves.

She had no idea how long her moment of solitude had lasted when she heard footsteps approaching. With a single finger she wiped the tear that had slid down her cheek. Anticipating a chastising comment concerning her absence from the party Arizona turned to face the intruder, ready to share a few compunctious words, but her surprise at the sight of the person standing behind her served as a barrier to the words she had prepared.

"We made sure all the horses were sheltered from the violent winds." The beautiful dark haired lady said as if she knew Arizona had seen her follow her husband outside of the ballroom. Arizona nodded her silent appreciation. After a prolonged silence, she returned to the way she had been facing before Calliope had decided to impose her presence. After a while she heard Calliope moving behind her; soon she felt the woman's hand on her shoulder. Arizona closed her eyes. It was as if all the air in her body had left her at once. She felt her shoulders slump under the other woman's touch. It wasn't out of weakness, but rather out of relief.

"You're alone, you seem upset... I simply thought that you should know that I'm sorry for the way I talked to you earlier. I just... I was confused and frustrated, but you didn't deserve to be addressed to in that tone. I'm sorry." Calliope's hand on her shoulder and the words that escaped the woman's mouth interfered with Arizona's despair. Something about the woman's presence made her remember that there was a reality beyond the worry her brother's departure had brought. "I don't even know if I'm the reason you're upset, but I still wanted to apologize for what I did that made you want to avoid me."

There was no point in denying it. It was what she had done.

"It's not you." Arizona whispered with difficulty. Calliope was not the reason of her current preoccupied state and she also wasn't to blame for the blonde's avoidance. "I'm sorry." She added without explaining why. The reasons were numerous and the explanations for some of them were bound to scare Calliope. As if reading her thoughts, Arizona felt Calliope squeeze her shoulder as she heard her speak "You don't have to explain now." Arizona concentrated on Calliope's hand as it went from the top of her shoulder to her shoulder blade. "I just wanted to tell you that when you're not upset, when you're over being upset, maybe... if you want, we can be friends and then you can talk." Before she was conscious of her decision Arizona turned to face the brunette.

They had danced around each other all evening, both literally and figuratively. One of them pushing while the other pulled, both of them confused, each frustrated for different reasons, but neither willing to give up. It was then that Arizona took her decision. She had to stop the conflicting feelings and thoughts from bringing her to this stagnant state. She had tried to avoid Calliope, but obviously it hadn't served neither of them; it had only dimmed the issue while it waited to be ignited once more. There was nothing wrong in making Calliope a friend, Arizona reassured herself. What had felt like a condemnable attraction that day near the stream had probably just been a thrill brought by the knowledge of doing something that was forbidden, she convinced herself.

Instead of telling Calliope that they could be friends, she chose to simply start acting like she was in the presence of a person who was worthy of that title. "My brother just told me he's leaving for a military mission." She whispered. Calliope's reaction was instantaneous. Arizona felt strong arms wrap around her; the space between them disappeared and suddenly they were hugging.

The wind still blew, Arizona's pale blond hair intertwined with Calliope's dark brown. Her brother was still leaving in the morning, she held Calliope to remind herself that his departure did not mean that she was alone. Her confusion concerning the woman in her arms still existed, but for the time being, it was forgotten.


	7. First and Last

**Author's Note: **This chapter is a calm stream, but be warned there is always calm before a storm. Also, thank you for each and every review! We read and appreciate every one of them.

**First and Last**

"A glooming peace this morning with it brings;  
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:  
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;  
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:  
For never was a story of more woe  
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

She closed the small book that contained the tragic play and a long silence filled the spacious kitchen. Arizona had read this play more times than she cared to admit, yet it never ceased to shake her to the core. Each time they read the story, Arizona found herself affected in a different way. This time the ending left her burning with frustration. How could circumstances be so cruel to such a pure love?

"They both died?" With that question the silence was shattered, as was Arizona's train of thought. The blond looked up to a frowning Miranda.

"Well, yes they both died." She answered.

Miranda shrugged and resumed the task she had paused when Arizona had finished the play.

"I thought you had said it was a beautiful story." Miranda said in a tone that mixed skepticism and disagreement.

Arizona laughed at the woman's skeptical expression. When she was a young girl Arizona was often brought to the kitchen so someone could keep an eye on her while the meals were being prepared. When she was old enough she would take a book with her and spend the time reading while the house's staff worked around her. It was a habit she had kept 'til this day. She would come to the kitchen to read when she felt the need to immerse herself into a world that would permit her to escape her own. In the last few weeks she had often found herself drifting towards the kitchen. Although she would never admit it, it was one of the escapes she had used to fill the void left by Timothy's absence.

"I did say it was a beautiful story." Arizona affirmed dismally. The blond tilted her head mindlessly. She took a piece of freshly cut vegetable and brought it to her mouth. "Beautifully tragic would maybe be more accurate." Arizona was about to take a bite when Miranda swiftly pushed the blonde's hand and took the piece of vegetable that had fallen from it. "Don't mess with my recipe." She chastised Arizona.

"How can something so tragic be beautiful? Beauty is to be admired; no one should admire a tragedy if it's..." The old indenture's sentence continued but Arizona didn't hear the end since her attention was stolen by the man who had silently entered the kitchen. Arizona raised her eyebrows to silently question her husband's presence in the room he so rarely visited.

Alex walked towards them with a determined expression, however his resolve seemed to disappear as soon as he reached them. He stood next to the table and an uncomfortable silence brewed for a few seconds before it was broken. "I was simply wondering about your plans for the day." He reached for a piece of vegetable, but interrupted his movement when he noticed the warning look that Miranda shot his way.

His sudden interest in Arizona's routine surprised her. She always told him about her comings and goings but he had never inquired about them prior to this moment. "Well..." She nervously fiddled with one of the corners of the book she was holding. "Calliope is supposed to bring a few things from the market later and she suggested that we could go looking for a type of herb her family uses to prevent the nausea caused by pregnancy." Arizona's hand drifted along her abdomen as she spoke of their unborn child. In the last few days she had hardly been able to hold any of the food she had consumed. When she had mentioned it to Calliope, the Spaniard had offered to bring some medicine her family concocted and sold at the market, but the blonde's curiosity took over her and she instead had asked Calliope to explain how they made the concoction. For a moment the woman had hesitated; Arizona had wondered if the outcome to this indiscretion would bring her to a wall like that incident a few months ago when Calliope had refused to share with her the location of her secret strawberry patch. This time her curiosity was rewarded; after a short moment of hesitation the woman had accepted not only to tell her how to do the concoction, but had also suggested that they go pick the most important ingredient together.

Arizona saw a flicker of interest in her husband's eyes as she mentioned the medicine, but he seemed determined to focus his attention on her. "Are you sure that it's appropriate?"

The blonde froze as she heard his words and considered their possible implications. Was she sure that _what_ was appropriate? Was her husband questioning her friendship with Calliope? Feeling uncomfortable with the possibility, she shifted on her chair nervously. As she moved she caught a quick glimpse of Miranda's eyes. She could have sworn that the old maid was giving her a disapproving look, but she didn't bother to analyse the woman's features. Before Arizona could open her mouth to answer Alexander he reformulated his question. "I mean, do you think that it is well-advised to let you wander around and look for ingredients when you are pregnant?"

If a second ago she had been uncomfortable, now the blonde was back to being surprised. Why did her husband take a sudden interest in her well being? Not that Alex didn't take care of her. He did, but not in a way that felt so genuine.

"It is only one ingredient - some kind of mushroom that's only found during late fall, and I'll be careful." She smiled, hoping it would convince him. In the weeks that had followed the dinner party Arizona and Calliope had managed to slowly form a friendship that the blonde seemed to appreciate more and more.

His concerned eyes stayed on her for a moment. Arizona felt as if she was being examined or even scrutinized before finally breaking the silence, "I thought I could then teach you the concoction and you could use it with your patients."

Alexander seemed to take a moment to register her words. "We'd have to be sure of its efficiency."

"Of course." She agreed. Thinking that the conversation was over, Arizona brought her attention back to Miranda and tried to remember what they were discussing. Alexander didn't move. His eyes were still on her; she looked at him once again. Seeing him hovering made her uncomfortable. He was usually so forward and direct. "Is there something else you would like?" She asked, trying to help him address whatever it was that was on his mind.

"I... well... I was just wondering..." He gave a furtive look in Bailey's direction, straightened up and cleared his throat, "I was simply wondering how you were doing since..."

Arizona interrupted him. She didn't want to hear the rest of his question; she didn't want to hear him mention _his_ name. "I'm very well." She nodded as she said it; she needed to convince herself as well as him. The truth was that she missed Timothy more than she could even express.

Her husband hesitated again. She knew he had not been completely fooled. He opened his mouth to say something but only a small sigh escaped his lips. He nodded his salutations to Miranda before he looked at Arizona one last time. "My dear, if you need anything I will be in my office." And with these words he swept out of the kitchen. She watched him until he disappeared behind the door.

As soon as her eyes went back to Miranda she noticed that the older woman was looking at her with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, as if the woman knew something that Arizona ignored.

"What is it Miranda?" She asked, curious. With all the time she had spent in the kitchen in the last few weeks Arizona had learned to appreciate the older woman's insight.

"Nothin'" Miranda answered with a shrug.

Unconvinced, Arizona raised an eyebrow. She was about to insist, when a faint knock was heard on the kitchen door. Arizona's heart echoed the sound and knocked against her chest at the thought of the woman who was probably behind the barrier.

"Calliope," She greeted as she opened the door. She took the basket that Calliope held in her arms and dropped it on the counter.

"I took the liberty of bringing a squash. I remember you mentioned that you liked squash soup." She had that shy smile that made Arizona's already violently pumping heart leap in her chest.

"Oh thank you, I'll be sure to add it to what we owe."

"Oh no. It's a gift." She insisted.

"I don't deserve any gifts." Arizona said with a faintest discomfort. She still regretted the way she had treated Calliope before their reconciliation at the dinner party. They had never talked about Arizona's cold attitude, it was as if the hug they had shared in the garden had been a silent pact that they were starting anew.

"Deserving it would defeat its purpose. Rewards are given when deserved, not gifts." She smiled playfully. Something in her playful tone made Arizona blush. "Thank you." She answered with a shy smile.

"We should go pick the mushrooms." She said to force herself to stop staring into Calliope's brown eyes. "Miranda, we will be back in a few hours." Arizona ignored the maid's mumbled reply, picked up something to cover her shoulders and walked outside with Calliope at her side.

The sun was high in the blue autumn sky. A small but constant wind made her wrap her shawl tighter around herself. She smiled reassuringly when Callie looked at her with concern. The subtle way with which they were able to communicate was probably the main reason why Arizona enjoyed Calliope's presence so much. They walked towards the woods in silence, neither of them daring to break the simple moment of peace they were sharing.

They had been walking for a while when Calliope stopped near a pack of tall trees. Around them the wind made the colorful leaves fall and Arizona heard the faintest sound of water running down the stream. They were approaching the location where Arizona had seen Calliope's naked form. To the blonde's surprise the flashes of memory only lasted a few seconds; she didn't care for outrageous images of the past when she had Calliope in all her beauty standing and smiling next to her.

"Those are the mushrooms," Calliope pointed towards a few little bulbs that grew against the tree's trunk. "They are very rare." She added. "My mother was told about them by an old indian lady." She picked the delicate ingredients. "Too much of them and you will be more nauseous. You need to level your quantities." She warned Arizona.

Arizona paid attention to every word Calliope said in order to be able to explain the recipe to her husband. She knew Alexander was very cautious when it came to his patient's care and that he would not serve them the concoction if some doubt resided regarding its origin or its efficiency.

They made a good reserve of the rare ingredient before they started heading back towards the Robbins's residence. Arizona was asking questions of Calliope's remedy when she stumbled on a protuberant root. Her awakened reflex made her put her hands in front of her to absorb the shock, but her cautious move was unnecessary since strong arms wrapped around her and prevented her from falling on the ground. "Are you hurt?" The Spaniard asked, still holding the blonde close to her chest.

Arizona's eyes fluttered; she swallowed with difficulty, but that physiological reaction had nothing to do with her near accident. "I am not. Thanks to you." She looked into Calliope's eyes with recognition. A moment passed before Calliope spoke; they were so close that Arizona felt Calliope's warm breath on her neck. It seemed that warmth could also instigate shivers. "Here, hold my arm. I don't want you to hurt yourself or the baby." Calliope's arms left the secured bubble they had formed around Arizona to link with her arm. Arizona's arm instantly tightened around Calliope's. Before her near fall she hadn't even felt threatened, but strangely her connection with the other woman made her feel more secure.

* * *

Alexander left early the next morning. He packed his mahogany case full of every instrument necessary for the procedure he was due to perform as an emergency. The girl was eight years old and had woken up with an indescribable pain, but to Dr. Karev it was a typical way for him to wake up at dawn. He was ninety percent sure that her appendix was swelling and needed to be removed, but he wouldn't know for certain until he was there to assess the young patient. He didn't have any time to say goodbye to Arizona, simply sneaking out as quietly as possible. Bailey had been in the kitchen when he passed through making breakfast. She had generously handed him a fresh piece of bread to eat along the way. The doctor was grateful, for he didn't quite find the idea of operating on an empty stomach something to look forward to.

The house was only a short distance away, arguably a walk that he could manage in his sleep. Alexander needn't have knocked, because the second he did so the door swung open revealing Elizabeth's father who was standing there, eyes lit with an urgent fear as he hastily led him through the dingy house to the small cot where the young girl was crying fitfully in pain.

Alex immediately dropped his case and jacket and approached the girl. "Elizabeth? I'm Doctor Karev. Try to breathe through the pain. I just have to give you a quick examination; is that okay?" He asked calmly, hoping that if he maintained that persona the girl would follow suit, because one thing was for sure: if this was an unhappy appendix, this pain would be the least of the eight year old's worries in the next hour.

He palpated with his fingers gently against Elizabeth's abdomen. Her relentless cries every time he gently put pressure on her stomach made Alexander feel only more certain that she would have to go under the knife. Abdominal rigidity localized to the right lower quadrant, as well as a pain that only increased as he asked her to exhale - yes, this was definitely an emergency. "How long has she been like this?" Alexander asked her father, eyes roaming over to him while still evaluating the child's condition.

"Since yesterday. But now the pain is getting worse."

_No kidding, _the young doctor thought privately.

"Okay. Elizabeth, sweetheart... I need to do surgery." That apparently was the wrong way to go about the matter, for as soon as the word 'surgery' had fallen from his lips, the young girl began to cry, if at all possible, much harder. Alexander looked to her father with an apologetic look on his face, as if to say, 'I probably should not have said that'. The man simply shook his head and then nodded, giving him silent permission to continue while speaking in dulcet tones to his only daughter to distract her.

In order to prevent Elizabeth from seeing the sharp and extremely frightening looking tools, Alexander began to prepare off to another side of the room, away from the young girl's line of vision. From the velvet interior of the surgical case he retrieved a scalpel blade, scissors and a pair of forceps. Not an extra item was needed as this was a time, unfortunately, before the seemingly trivial but ultimately dire importance of antisepsis had been discovered.

It was always a sad moment when a family became aware that the dreaded 's' word was needed. For the most part, surgery was dangerous in this age. It was all a matter of efficiency and speed to prevent the possibility of infection spreading. While Alexander was well experienced, having trained as a Junior doctor to a house surgeon for over two years, there was still only only so many times he had practiced on a real person or a shared cadaver, only so many opportunities to perfect the skills that when pushed into an emergency, you were expected to perform without hesitation. It was for this singular reason that Alexander needed to breathe in deeply before rolling up his sleeves and approaching Elizabeth, a softly woven rope balled into his fist as he bent down near her head.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, but this will hurt." He said quietly while gently lacing the thread around her wrists, as if this could somehow help her to forgive him for what he was inevitably going to have to do next. "I'm going to work fast to make you feel better, alright?" He made sure she heard him, allowing Elizabeth to get a full frontal view of his face to show her the true honesty in his eyes. He really hated operating on children.

"Hold her hand and don't let go." Alexander advised the father, watching as he quickly maneuvered himself around the bed to sit by his daughter's head. "Talk to her until she..." The man nodded. There was no need to inform him that the likelihood of little Elizabeth passing out in the next five minutes was very likely.

Drawing the scalpel up, he pierced a strip through the girl's dress and stretched it with his much larger hands to get to the surgical field. After only a second's hesitation, Alexander figured it was most humane to make the first incision quick, preferably when she wasn't expecting it. With a breath in his throat, he made the precise cut, mentally blocking out the young girl's screams as he began to work as quickly as his hands would allow.

* * *

The surgery was a success. Alexander was able to accurately locate the revolting organ and remove it, inverting the edge of the cut into the cecum for a cleanly finish. The stitching took the longest, but by the time his aching and tired, blood-covered hands were finished with the entire procedure, it had been one full hour. Elizabeth was unconscious in the cot as he laid out some experimental herbs and other plant fusions for her father to treat her with when she was finally responsive again, which he informed the man could be a couple hours at least. It was all a waiting game. Every single person was different, and Alex had no way of accurately predicting how long it would take before his patients began to stir after an invasive procedure.

After another last check over to make sure that Elizabeth's heart and breathing rate was in the normal range, Alexander promised to return to make sure she was okay the next day. He had a few other places to stop before making his way back home. He'd interrupted an awkward moment while checking in on the Shepherd's on his way to dispense some medication to cure a mild case of poison oak, of which seemed to be an argument over something he hardly cared to know at that precise moment. As carefully as he had made his way to their house, Alex just as easily dismissed himself, leaving the mixture on a side cabinet, and spent a great amount of time afterwards entering the homes of the dying and sick, making a few house calls of the diseased in order to make his official confirmation of death.

All in all, it was a very busy day. But being in the profession he had chosen for himself, it was expected to be consistently active in the colony. There was only him and another older surgeon, as well as a physician who did not specialize in surgery. It was a lot of work covering the everly growing population of the village, but Alexander did it with pride. After all, it was what he had wanted for himself; it was what his family, had they not been corrupted by the strange mental disease, would have wanted for him.

Upon entering the old manor, Alexander searched for his wife. Ever since Timothy stated his intent to join the war, he had been keeping a close eye on her, both for the benefit of herself and their unborn baby. After finding Arizona in the kitchen with Miranda, he had a few quick words with her before excusing himself. Walking down the main hall, he caught a quick glimpse of Isobel tidying up the living room. The brief eye contact made between them forced a rare smile to his lips. He couldn't help but feel at ease whenever the maid was present on the main floor. He had to mentally chastise himself for possibly encouraging further flirtations from the blonde, and as soon as these thoughts became tangled in his mind again, the doctor immediately averted his gaze to the wooden door of his office and closed it tightly behind him. Sighing to himself, he dropped into the chair and kicked his feet back for a second, simply allowing the calm and quiet of the room to settle his agitation and constant need to be on the move.

To his faint surprise, a knock echoed behind the stern barrier.

"Yes?" Alexander called out curiously, wondering who it could possibly be. The door opened a crack, revealing a pair of apprehensive cinnamon brown eyes. Isobel smiled again timidly before pushing the door open enough to step into the tiny office a little more.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir. I simply wanted to ask if there was anything I could get for you. Are you hungry?" She asked with an inquisitive furrow to her brows, shifting from one foot to the next as if being in his presence made the blonde positively nervous. Alexander was surprised that he could have this kind of affect on her. It wasn't something he was really accustomed to.

Clearly it was not the only thing he wasn't used to. After a brief lapse in silence, the man released a stifled sigh, as if finally releasing the stress of the day's events. Between wondering how Elizabeth was now fairing at home with her father and the cries of her pain still replaying again and again on the inside of his skull, he just hadn't had the time to think about himself. However now that the offer was figuratively on the table, the doctor could feel his stomach growling. Rubbing his eyes with two hands, Alexander shook his head slowly.

"Is something the matter?" Isobel asked with mild concern.

"It's nothing... I just, I guess I'm not used to this is all." Alexander explained, chuckling softly to himself as he took a moment to really analyze how far he'd come. Almost a year ago he had been just scraping by at home, trying to provide for his family, and now here he was sitting behind an impressive looking desk of high quality wood with a maid asking him whether or not she should prepare him a meal. This type of life was not the norm for Alexander Karev, and it took little moments like these, rare and seemingly simple, for the reality to occasionally hit him. He was, of course, most victim to these thoughts when exhaustion hijacked his busy and vastly relied on mind.

To his surprise and secret pleasure, the maid neither frowned nor tried to instil reason into him. On the contrary, a sympathetic smile dawned her features. "Nor am I." She admitted. The miniscule comment, while bearing little detail in itself, effectively sliced through the barrier of cold ice that had been hovering between the duo since the dinner party. Alexander could not remember ever sharing such a close confession with the blonde before. Speaking to her like equals had never been an option, but now he was terribly tempted.

"You aren't?" He inquired hesitatingly, a trace of vulnerability in his voice.

"No," she once again confirmed, closing the door softly behind her and taking another step in his direction. "My family and I used to live in one of the poorest villages. We had absolutely nothing. I grew up working dirty jobs from the age of nine, never seeing the inside of a house like this until - well, until The Colonel found and hired me." She smiled fondly to herself as if revisiting the private memory. "It was the most magical moment of my life."

Alexander could not help but draw comparabilities between her fairytale-esque story and his own tragic reincarnation. The brutal and dejected lives of a young man and woman, rescued by the noble steed of Arizona's father who found a way to fit them into their lives. One as a maid, the other as the impending husband to his only daughter. Had they even fit? Sometimes Alexander couldn't help but feel otherworldly in such a strange and fabulous estate, like something from one of his dreams as a young boy had suddenly turned into reality; like a puzzle piece that had been stolen and stamped into the frame in order to fit to the best of its ability, but somehow probably never would. Yes, he could identify exactly with what the maid called 'magical'. The fact that he could understand where she was coming from so perfectly made him question his position in the household. Surely Alex should not be able to empathize with a servant.

After several moments of quiet contemplation, Alex thought to ask a question that up until now he had never been curious to learn the answer to. "How long have you worked for the Robbins' Manor?"

Isobel's response was abrupt, as if she had committed the exact amount of time to memory. "Three years and four months, Sir." The respectful name did not meet deaf ears; he was reminded once again that she worked for him and therefore terms like 'Sir' and 'Mister' were only appropriate to be said between them.

Evidently Isobel had been founded at least a year and a half before Alexander had made his first appearance on the doorstep. It must have been alarming to have a stranger step into what had become the maid's home and for her to be expected to serve him. Even though the family treated their servants with more respect than was normal in this age, it still unsettled the doctor in a way he could not describe, knowing that he had literally went from rags to riches in less than a month, earning the blonde's indulgence in the process.

"Do you ever get accustomed to it?" The question had been shaped by his lips before the thought was even formulated in his mind.

"To living like this? No, not exactly." The maid smiled softly at him before surveying Alexander with a tilt of her head. It was as though she was trying to understand the deliberation he could not voice that she knew, instinctively, must be there. "But it gets easier." She surprised him with a calming affirmation. He did not miss the slight buzz of color that overtook both pale cheeks before the blonde straightened and made an attempt at closing the open emotional connection between the two, "Lunch?"

"Please," Alexander nodded, straightening his back against the chair behind him before nodding in acceptance of her offer. He watched her walk out of his office, unsure as to what expression should grace his features. Not superior, because he felt somehow that they had just just broadened their relationship to something that almost resembled friendship, but he would be a fool to encourage this behaviour even further. After all, what sort of man befriended the servants? Not Alexander Karev, or at least that is what he told himself. Still, the idea that Isobel was taking care of him with the promise of a warm meal made him feel unusually at ease and, well - taken care of.

* * *

The passage from the oniric world to reality was brutal, yet it took him a moment to clarify his mind and identify where he was: he was in his bed. It was not the sight of his surroundings that made him realize where he was, but rather the familiar feeling of Arizona's peacefully sleeping body laying next to him. In an attempt to calm his frantic and shallow breathing he concentrated on her deep and even breaths and tried to synchronize his own with hers. He hated those nightmares; they were not constituted of haunting images or traumatizing memories; they were only sounds, the torturing screams of children in pain. There was no way to predict their arrival, but when they came they invaded his mind; they paralyzed his instincts and waking up never sufficed to eliminate them. The first few seconds after waking up were always the worst. There was always this moment of panic where he had to remember that the screams were not real, that they were in his dreams and that nothing could be done to stop them.

The palm of his hand slipped against his sweaty forehead. He knew there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. Slowly and as silently as possible he slipped the covers off of his body and sat on the edge of their marital bed. Alex looked at his apparently undisturbed wife before he gathered the will to grab a robe and get out of their room.

He easily navigated through the dark halls until he reached his office. He was about to light the lamp that rested on his desk, but chose otherwise. Some fears were easier to face in the dark. He sat on one of the more comfortable chairs he had at his disposition and left his mind free to wander. On his armrest his fingers tapped a constant beat to defeat the silence that resonated in the empty room. Silence forced him to hear the constant echoes of his nightmares.

Invaded by the numbing burden of his worries, he didn't hear his wife slowly entering his office. Her delicate approach didn't prevent him from being startled when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She said, seemingly startled herself, by her husband's surprise. Alexander was still looking at her in shock when she added: "I just woke up and you weren't there. I knew you weren't gone because of a patient since I usually hear Miranda when she comes to wake you up for those..." He thought she sounded nervous, similar to a child who had to explain their doings to an angry father.

"I didn't expect company." He defended abruptly. She took her hand off his shoulder and started fiddling with her finger; obviously his defensive reflexes were not making her more comfortable. Alexander shook his head and looked away. He didn't have the time or energy to deal with his wife's eccentricities. Apparently she didn't understand that she had just been dismissed. Instead of leaving him with his thoughts, she sat in the chair that was next to his. He looked at her with a disapproving glare, but before he could speak, she beat him to it. "You speak in your sleep." Arizona blurted out.

He was taken aback by her comment, but shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What did he say in his sleep? Alexander cleared his throat and asked, "What have you heard?"

He saw her studying him, as if she was evaluating whether she should tell him the answer to the question he had asked. He tried to smoothen his features. Maybe it would encourage her to talk.

"Something about 'they hurt' and 'the children'," his wife admitted boldly. She seemed to have taken it upon herself to pursue this interaction with full honesty the easier to get the discussion over with. Alexander grimaced slightly as the truth met his ears. Had he really been saying such things in a state of unconsciousness?

"Oh," he said simply. No other words were needed.

"Was it terrible this morning? The girl... you performed surgery on her, did you not?" Arizona asked delicately, as if she was bringing up a dangerous subject that could do more damage than good.

After a brief hesitation, as clearly Alexander was deliberating on whether or not it was okay to share such possibly nightmarish details with his own pregnant wife, he nodded. One small singular action, but it was at least enough to encourage the blonde to continue. "Did she die?" She simply asked, and she had a way of asking in which he knew that even if the girl _had _died, that she did not think he was to blame. She didn't think him a monster. But would she when she heard the ghastly truths of what his operating room really looked like?

All at once he seemed to gather his wits and shook his head again, inhaling deeply before unleashing his next words on the top of a sigh. "No, she didn't die..." As he thought back to yesterday morning, all he could remember was the way his fists had to clench together until she went unconscious, until she stopped the screaming. He had not been able to focus entirely until Elizabeth had been knocked out, time that had been poorly wasted. Why was it that the sounds of a young child screaming as compared to a grown man seemed to haunt Alex Karev more than usual?

"They just... they hurt, Arizona." He finally admitted, the same words he had apparently been repeating over and over in his sleep, a mantra that outlined a problem the doctor could not fix. "They hurt, the little ones. They cry as I cut them open. They're terrified. There's no understanding, just... being told what to do. I wouldn't be surprised if they had nightmares for the rest of their lives." Even if he wasn't some crazed maniac with a wicked gleam in his eyes , even though he didn't show any enjoyment in the actions that were to save the children's lives, Alexander was still terrified of the idea that to these young kids, he would become the image of Death. He would become the villain in their dreams, and this idea made him feel nauseous. It kept him awake at night when he should be resting his mind for the next day's work.

He expected the confession to be met with a look of horror. While his wife knew firsthand what he was capable of doing, having spent many months with him now down at the barn, she would never know what it was like to perform on a living, breathing and feeling human being. She could not possibly imagine that terror. Maybe he was too soft; after all, his teacher had not been like this. He had not been so easily affected, but simply kept his mind and attention on the issue at hand. He did not let his surroundings hold him back. These doubts were surely going to torment Alex if he could not find a way to arrest these fears and find a way to make them productive.

It took him moment to realize that Arizona's hand was still very much on his shoulder. He wondered what she must be thinking. Then, in the silence, she spoke quietly and Alexander found himself hanging on her every word, his desperation for a cure not only for his young patients', but for his own pain, paramount. "Children are not like adults," she started out. "They are resilient; they can survive far worse than what you give them credit for." And he knew, without knowing how he did, that she was referring to him.

"You need to think like a tiny human." Alexander scrunched his face up at her in confusion; perhaps he was finding her method a little too childish for his profession, but she did not let his expression deter her: "What do children like to do? They enjoy playing pretend; they imagine grand adventures; they believe everything is not necessarily as it seems. Perhaps you should experiment with that gift, their perception of reality, their childish innocence and complete naïveté. Their simplicity invites opportunities."  
His eyes narrowed at this uplifting speech. While intriguing, Alexander was not clear on how he was supposed to make use of it.

Arizona continued, and because she seemed to be having a walk down her past, her husband allowed it. "Timothy and I had a friend, Nicholas, and when we were young we would romp in the fields and pretend that we lived on the lands of an imaginary castle. Timothy was the King; I was a princess, and Nicholas was the noble knight come to ask my hand in marriage." Ignoring the way her spouse seemed to be finding this all very silly, the young woman continued, "I cannot describe to you how, but to us it felt real. There was a kind of magic to our ignorance. The ideas we dispensed in our minds became our reality for that summer. I still remember the feelings."

"The feelings you had for this Nicholas?" Alexander interrupted smartly.

"No, our complete faith in the imagination. In the world we had fabricated for ourselves."

Silence followed these last words. He could tell that his wife was having a moment; her thoughts were probably still on her brother as King, his presence still youthful and free of any danger, of them and this Nicholas playing courtship in the brilliant fields of grass.  
"I don't know what you expect me to do with this information," he finally admitted, effectively snapping Arizona back into the reality.

"You're the best doctor I know," she whispered encouragingly. He could feel her lean down a few inches to leave an imprint of her lips on his cheek. "You'll think of something."

He couldn't help but smile, shaking his head slowly as he watched his wife move towards the door. "You're a curious woman, Arizona." Alexander called after her in the darkness.

She paused at the frame, one hand on the wood and turned back to look at him with bright eyes. "And do you love me?" She asked mirthfully.

"More and more each day." He affirmed.

Her smile in turn made him mirror the action. Alexander was about to say goodnight while his wife was just another inch closer to walking out the door when another thought struck his mind. "Oh, Arizona," he asked quickly. "How was your day?" A seemingly out of place question in the dead of night. When she seemed to furrow her eyebrows in confusion, he elaborated. "You and the Torres girl; didn't you two go out?"

He sensed that something was a little different with the way her smile faintly flitted, then regained its strength. "Oh, of course. It went well; I returned with enough mushrooms to make the concoction." Alex nodded, content that he had completed his duty of making sure his wife was still stable and not too stressed from her brother's absence. "Good, I'm glad that you're getting some fresh air. Goodnight."

Arizona nodded as her husband dismissed her. "Don't stay up too late."

He waited a few seconds in the darkness, watching the door where his wife had just disappeared. After what seemed like five minutes of deep thinking, the doctor finally removed his gaze away from the shadows and pulled open a drawer to his desk. Pen poised in his strong grip, he began to write an order. Europe had a vast assortment of special drugs that was only available across the ocean; it would take several months at least until it arrived, but he had been coloured inspired by his wife's uplifting story, and felt the wait would be worth it.


	8. The Crushing Heel of Tyranny

**The Crushing Heel of Tyranny**

**Author's Notes**: Every action movie has a good car chase that glues you to the edge of your seat...well this chapter and the one that will follow are the pre-colonial America equivalent of a car chase.

All around them the market was bursting with activity: men were carrying crates that contained provisions for the winter, women were bending over the rolls of fabric and balls of yarn that would keep their family warm, children were running and laughing careless of the cold and striving times the season would undoubtedly impose. Their surroundings were loud and filled with movements like an coordinated chaos, but Arizona Karev did not notice any of it for her attention was solely concentrated on Calliope O'Malley.

Arizona observed attentively as Calliope taught her how to operate the market's new loom, that was until the person she was supposed to concentrate on became a distraction from the trade she was trying to learn. "Now you try." Calliope had invited with a full smile as she took a few steps back to let Arizona take the reign. The blonde took the spot that had been left vacant and tried to recreate the movements that Calliope had just taught her. At first her movements were fluid, but soon the loom became harder to maneuver. Confident in her abilities Arizona got closer to the machine and squinted as she concentrated on her movements. After a few efforts, her fluent flow had been recovered; she was about to look up at Calliope with a proud smile when she froze. Calliope was no longer standing next to her. It seemed that the Spaniard was now standing behind Arizona. It was not the fact that Calliope had moved that surprised Arizona, but rather the proximity in which they now found each other.

As Arizona straightened in surprise she felt Calliope's front slowly pressing against her back. "You're a good student. You look darling when you're concentrating." She heard the smile in Calliope's voice. She wanted to smile in return, but the overwhelming awareness of their bodies rubbing against one another monopolized all of her self control. The only physical responses she tried to control and to no avail were her shallow breaths and the constriction in her throat that made it hard for her to swallow. The other physical responses she didn't even try to fight: the tension in her jaw when she felt Calliope's breath on her neck, the tensed ticklish feeling in her lower abdomen when Calliope moved against her and the shivers on her skin when Calliope's finger slid down her arm until their hands both started to move in synch. "That's it. It's a steady movement; after a while you don't even have to think about it." She already wasn't thinking about it. She couldn't think about it or about anything other than Calliope's proximity. Nothing existed other than the other woman and the impact that her every movements had on Arizona. Calliope guided her hand through pieces of thread, twining the filaments confidently.

"Callie..." Arizona murmured as she turned her head to try and catch a glimpse of the other woman's eyes. No one called her Callie, everyone called her by her full name: Calliope, but as they had grown closer Arizona had fashioned tender diminutive. At first the epithet had been a simple display of affection, but when Arizona had witnessed how Callie disapproved of anyone who tried use the diminutive other than her it had become a proof of the unicity of their relationship.

"Callie." She repeated a little louder.

"Mhm?" Calliope's front slid against Arizona's back so she would have enough space to turn her head without seeming too close.

When their eyes met, Arizona realised she had nothing else to add. She looked into Callie's eyes, searching for reassurance that she wasn't the only one who was flustered by their current contiguity. Her quest for signs of reciprocity was interrupted by a violent scream that immediately severed their connexion. Everything happened at once. People started to run in every directions, shouts and screams were only buried by the loud explosions of firearms, but it was only when a man who was standing close to them fell on the ground, blood covering his chest that Arizona realised the urgency of the situation: they were under attack, this was a raid and they had to run. But the man was looking at them, with a pleading look; he was begging them for help. Arizona took a step towards him; she had to help him. "What are you doing?!" Calliope shouted with distress.

Arizona was a step away from the man when a man who was running blindly with panic bumped into her with such violence that she was thrown to the ground. When her hands hit the earth she felt a sharp debris pierce through the skin of her right hand, but she didn't have the time to look at the damages; someone was already grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back up. "We can't help. Run!"

At first she resisted. "But!" was the only argument she shouted as Calliope's strong hands had grabbed her own and pulled her away from the distressed man. Arizona looked over her shoulder as she ran. She saw the man drowning in powerlessness as he was losing his life, ignored by those who were running to save their own.

As they ran Arizona scouted the crowd to find any sign of her husband; if she could find him, he would take them to safety. They ran with no destination until they both stopped, exhausted. They crouched behind a gardening shed as they both tried to catch their breaths. Arizona tightened her grip on Callie's hand; they were not running anymore, but Arizona felt the need to keep the contact unsevered.

"What...was... that? What's... happening?" Calliope whispered between breaths.

"A raid." Arizona answered without hesitation. She had known it as soon as she had seen the uniformed men stealing valuables from the market and dragging people towards their carriages. They were imprisoning people, killing and wounding only those who resisted; they would steal everything that was valuable, probably burn down a few houses in the process. Arizona had heard enough of her father's and her brother's encounters with such cruelty to know that they were the victims of raiders.

"Who?" Callie asked, probably wondering who could be monstrous enough to do such a thing in the light of day.

Arizona concentrated on what she had seen earlier. By the color of their attackers uniform and what she knew about the current wars she deduced: "Mostly French, some Spanish with the help of natives."

The revelation made Calliope's features twist with discomfort and what seemed like a guilty expression flashed through her eyes. "Spanish..." Calliope repeated to attenuate her disbelief.

It took a moment for Arizona to realize what was going on. Calliope's origins were Spanish... Was she really feeling guilty for this? She was about to reassure her and tell her that she had nothing to do with it when a strident scream pierced the air. "Help!"

Calliope and Arizona looked at each other for one horror-stricken moment and in a silent agreement they slowly moved closer to the scream ,trying to see what was going on. Both peeking from behind the shed, they saw that the commotion was caused by two soldiers who were both holding a young woman who was giving her best efforts to squirm away from them. "Help" She screamed desperately.

Both men were unphased by the woman's distress laughed. "Tu penses que quelqu'un sera assez fou pour venir t'aider?" [You think someone will be foolish enough to come and help you?] One of them barked before they both laughed harder. He tried to put his disgusting paw over the cleavage of her dress, but she squirmed violently to avoid it. Her thrust was strong enough to unbalance the men. Arizona gasped in horror; she now had a full view of the woman's face and she recognized her. The soldier's victim was Theodora Altman.

Arizona hid behind the wall once again. She pressed her back against the cold stoned wall and looked at her surroundings; she couldn't just stay there and do nothing. Every second of inaction had an immense cost. She needed a weapon and right there, close to her foot, she found it. Arizona finally let go of Callie's hand and took the shovel. She then looked at Calliope and quickly but silently tried to advise her to stay hidden.

She slowly stood up. It was only when her right hand wrapped around the shovel's handle that she remembered the wound she had received when she had fallen on the ground. Not courageous enough to look at the damages Arizona simply held the shovel tighter with her left hand; her right could stay loose around the handle unless it came down to using the improvised weapon. Arizona was about to look at the two men when she felt Calliope moving next to her. The blonde raised her eyebrows to silently question her. Calliope sent her a defiant glare and took a gardening tool. Her message was clear: she wasn't going to stay hidden.

Resigned to act against those two brutes, Arizona slowly leaned against the wall and looked towards the street. The two men were still brutalizing Theodora, but Arizona was relieved to notice that the young woman was still fighting. Before she left their hiding spot, she looked at Calliope one last time. Just a moment, just long enough to pour into those gorgeous brown eyes the necessary courage to do the right thing.

The men both had their backs towards them. Arizona walked as silently as she could, both of her hands nervously cramping around the shovel's handle, ignoring the pain every movement caused her injured hand. As much as the walk towards them felt intolerably long it also felt too short; she felt like she needed more time to prepare. Not that she would have ever been okay with what she was about to do.

With no discussed plan or strategy, Arizona acted on instincts. She rose the shovel as high as she could and smashed it down one of the men's backs. She didn't register the damage it made, probably because her eyes were tightly shut. What happened next she would never be able to recollect properly for it happened with such rapidity and in the middle of so much chaos that she could only react to it. The man she had hit fell to the ground which alerted his companion. Acting on his soldier's incredibly quick reflex the man turned around just in time to avoid Calliope's tool from giving him the same fate as his colleague. He let go of Theodora's arm who took refuge in Arizona's, crying in distress as well as relief. Arizona wrapped a protective arm around the young woman and looked at the soldier who was now standing tall in front of the three women with his firearm pointing violently towards them. "Stupid women!" He said with a French accent, looking from his unconscious counterpart to the women who had caused the damage. "You will die because of your stupidity. You are weak!" He yelled with disgust.

Arizona closed her eyes and buried her mind into a silent mantra: we will be fine, we will be fine... When she dared to open her eyes again Calliope was walking towards the armed soldier. "So weak, that you feel threatened enough to point your weapon at us." She was defying him, she was now standing between the soldier and Arizona who was still holding a shocked Theodora. She was turning herself into a human shield and Arizona felt overwhelmingly distressed at the woman's precarious position, her daring bravery.

It was only then that Arizona realized how young the soldier was: he was a young fellow, not much older than the children who had been playing carelessly in the market just a few minutes ago. He was tall, but his features were soft yet stolen of that twinge of innocence that every child deserves. His reaction to Callie's words were immediate. "Shut your mouth!" He yelled as he raised an arm and then struck her against the side of her face.

It was not the violence of his reaction that terrified Arizona, but rather the firearm bang that echoed in her ears simultaneously. She felt blood spatter on her face and her heart stop. "No!" She yelled as she let go of Theodora and ran towards her falling friend.

As soon as her knees hit the ground, she took Calliope's head in her hands. "Callie? Callie?" Her voice was a plea begging for Callie to respond. Seconds are infinite in moments when your existence depends on the future.

The tears of desperation that were bordering her eyelids fell on her cheeks and became tears of relief as they rolled closer to her jawline. "I am fine." She heard Calliope whisper with a hand over her already bruised cheek. Arizona released the breath distress had been imprisoning. "You are fine. You are fine." She repeated as her hand touched the Spaniards chest to make sure that no wounds had been overlooked. She looked at her bloodless hands and then at her surroundings. Someone had shot a firearm, but Calliope had not been the target. Arizona's eyes fell on the soldier who had been threatening them just a few minutes ago; he was now laying on the ground lifeless.

Armed men with familiar faces were running their way. Arizona helped Calliope to get back to her feet, their hands connecting instinctively for a short moment before she felt her hand leaving hers. Of the men who had just saved them a distinct figure detached from the group and dashed towards them. George O'Malley held his still smoking gun close to his chest; it had been he who fired the shot.

"Calliope are you hurt?" He asked with concern. Arizona looked at the two as Calliope reassured her husband. Uneasy was how she felt when they interacted; perhaps it was because she was witnessing an intimate moment. To avoid the discomfort Arizona concentrated on Theodora and tried to calm the still shaking woman. She traced soothing patterns on the woman's back and whispered words of reassurance in her ear, words that proved ineffective on herself since her own mind drifted to the other individuals she cared about; to her mother and father, although she knew that the safest person to be with in times like these was undoubtedly her father, to her brother who's integrity concerning his beliefs had sent him to face dangers like these every day and finally she thought of her husband whose absence she realized made her quite anxious.

Her attention only left Theodora when she heard George say: "You need to take cover." Arizona looked up at O'Malley who was standing next to her.

"I'm sorry?" She had understood what he had said, but she just wasn't sure he was addressing her.

He spoke again, the confidence radiating off of him corporal."You have to take them to safety." Arizona looked at him with confusion. Why was he telling her this? She didn't question him; deep down she knew they needed to move, but her issue was with the fact that he was giving her the "mission". "No more stops, no more bravery. What you did was incredibly stupid." He judged. "It saved Theodora, but it was incredibly irresponsible bravery."

Anger swirled inside of her, but she knew that arguing wouldn't serve anyone, so she only nodded and took his wife's hand in her own. Silently, she asked Callie to help Theodora up before reciting a response, "I will get us to safety." He studied her for a moment and nodded. " I need to go help the wounded." He turned to leave, but Arizona took his arm "Have you seen my husband or my parents?`` She asked, anxious for a positive answer.

"I have not, but if I do I will make sure to bring them to safety."And with that he joined the other men and left the women to their own devices.

Arizona led the woman through the chaotic village. People were running in every direction; some were screaming for family members who had been lost in the commotion. Houses were in flames; wounded laid on the ground, and soldiers ran near them in search of people to capture, but none of it would stop Arizona from getting Theodora and Calliope to safety.

When they finally reached the Robbins' domain, Arizona went straight for the kitchen door. She was sure that it is where she would find Miranda and Isobel. She screamed and hit against the barricaded door until Miranda finally opened it. "Re-barricade, find lamps, oil and candles and come meet me in the hall!" She ordered as she ran through the kitchen and towards the study. There she broke the glass that covered their cabinet and took the firearm that was displayed there. It was an object of collection, but she knew that the firearm was still functional.

Arizona ran back to the hall where Calliope, Theodora, Miranda and Isobel were now waiting for her. "We need to hide until it ends." She said as she brushed her fingers against the wall; it took her a second to find the mechanism that would open the hiding place her father had precociously placed when he had built the house.

Arizona closed the door after all the women had found refuge in the small space. They lit one of the candles and sat in anxious silence. Arizona knew that Isobel and Miranda probably had a million questions. In order to calm the two women's curiosity she gave them the information she had gathered until now.

"We just saw armed men walking on the property, they went inside the barn and took the horses." Shared Izzie.

"We saw them taking some of the horse, perhaps not all of them were taken." Miranda continued with a tone that suggested her disapproval of the information Isobel had just shared. Miranda's rectification reassured Arizona slightly, but she still felt very affected by the news.  
She sat a little straighter; the raiders had taken their horses. She closed her eyes as the accumulated emotions were starting to threaten her calm of those horses had been with her family for years; Arizona thought of Nico and his aggressive ways she only could tame. As if sensing her distress Arizona felt Calliope move closer to her and the Spaniard's hand covered hers once more. The small gesture gave Arizona the will to go on.

"Let me look at your cheek." She demanded as she shifted so she could be between Callie's knees and have a good look at the woman's cheek. She placed a hand on Callie's unbruised cheek and delicately removed her dark hair from her face so she would see the mark that had been left by the soldier. Somewhere between her intentions and her actions Arizona's eyes remained connected with Callie's instead of checking on the woman's cheek. She noticed how Calliope's skin was soft under her fingertips and how her eyes were darker than their usual color. Arizona's eyes were finally going to drift to Calliope's cheek when she felt fingers wrap around her wrist.

"You're bleeding!" Calliope noticed with concern.

Startled by the sudden change of mood Arizona needed a moment to register what was happening. She looked at the hand that Callie was holding above her own and remembered the injury she had felt when she had fallen in the commotion. Her hand was covered in blood now and apparently her dress also had red stains.. "Oh. Yes. When I fell, something..."

Either she stopped speaking or her words were muffled, because the only things that were heard next were loud bangs and shouts.


	9. The Healing Course of Bravery

**Author's Note: **Second part to the big raid! We are cruel people who like to do unspeakable things to the characters, we know. But we're no worse than Shonda!

It has come to our attention that some people do not think this is a Calzona fic. To them, we would just like to say: read between the lines! And please take into consideration the time period that this story takes place. This is a multi- character and pairing fic, and we're having a great amount of fun playing with them in this universe. We hope you agree! As always, thanks for reading and for each and every review. We read them all. More to come soon!

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**The Healing Course of Bravery**

The market was teeming with life in every direction the doctor looked. People were discussing their affairs in hushed voices over the counter, sales people were smiling in invitation for patron's to come look at their goods; the air was crisp and clear, the kind that cleaned out your lungs with one simple inhale. Autumn was most definitely upon the colony of Massachusetts Bay.

Midway through the crowd, Alexander separated himself from the two women he had arrived with: his wife and Calliope Torres. Excusing himself with the simple mention that he had his own business to attend to, he slipped out of their radar and fell into his own fluent pace. Passing the section of meat and vegetables, the young man was able to send a passing wave of greeting to Carlos as he passed before making his way to his secret destination. He had ordered an experimental method of medicine that was very rare in the colonies, but had been slowly making its way through the European countries since last year. With his good connections and quick contacts, a collection of morning glory seeds had been sent from a local location to Dr. Karev where he could easily pick them up.

"It's strong, 'dis stuff," the man behind the outside apothecary boasted while plunking down the canister beholding two dozen of the little expensive seeds.

Alexander had been a little too busy inspecting the little hallucination-inducers to pay him much attention. "Sorry?" He mumbled in passing realization, looking up to face the man. "Morning glories; they're strong, them. People have lost their minds, seen some impossible thing's, some were sad to come back at all. Just sayin', they're strong so be careful."

"I appreciate the concern, sir, but as I am a trained surgeon, I assure you I am more than qualified to monitor and dispense these in a controlled situation."

"No offense at all, doctor. Juss' bein' friendly." The flustered salesman quickly backtracked, not having realized whom he was talking to. Alex studied him thoughtfully, noting that he was a fairly young man in his late teenage years, the embodiment of perfect health in the colony and the only deducible reason he had probably never treated him.

"How much?" He asked with a tone that tried to prove that he would forgive the boy for his careless assumptions if only he could recite the proper total. The answer never came however, for just as soon as the young man's mouth opened to give an answer, a shot rang out in the air; it all happened so fast Alex barely had the chance to process the events that transpired before his very eyes. One second he was having a conventional interaction with a fellow colonist, and the next that colonist had been shot in the head by a bullet.

Blood splattered Alexander's front shirt and face; he made one instinctive movement forward to assist before fear and the pull of survival forced him down. He could already see the glazed expression in the man's eyes that signified that he was dead. Alexander watched as he toppled forward and smashed his head against the row of medical ingredients, his body falling backwards against the earth with a sickening thud.

Chaotic screams cut through the air. Everywhere Alexander turned there was mass panic. Men in distinctive uniforms were rushing in from the surrounding trees, shouting in a different language, firearms and other weapons held aloft in their arms as they charged the unsuspecting crowd. Without wasting another second, Dr. Karev reached up to grab the morning glory seeds. He jammed them in an inside safe pocket before making a run for it. It was a matter of careful coordination. His ability of concentration under pressure was tested as everywhere he looked people were running in different directions, slamming into each other and falling to the ground. Shouts of confusion, of people calling for their loved ones were everywhere.

Heart pounding wildly in his chest, the first thought to surface in his mind was that of his wife. Where was Arizona? She was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't in the general area where he had left her. A lump rose in his throat. Could she have been one of the maimed he had stepped over? No, he could not think like that.

Never in his life had Alexander Karev ever experienced a raid, which is what he had realized this was by now, vaguely recollecting a conversation he had witnessed months previous on Aster Hill, and now here he was fighting in the very eye of one. Had he the time or supplies he may have been able to save some of the unfortunate victims, but as it was he could only focus on trying to find the others. A rough barrier appeared in front of him, a body he could not have anticipated. Unable to right his footing, Alexander tripped and fell into the ground. His neck snapped back from the surprise impact right beside a dying woman. "Help..." She pleaded, only enough strength to summon a whisper to her trembling lips.

"Shh," he comforted her, reaching out a hand to grip the woman's wrist as he laid there, panting for breath. No longer was he going to try to make a run for it. Besides, his own breathing was coming with difficulty and perhaps it was better to just lay here and help the woman to die in peace, to wait out the storm and hope that nobody would give a passing glance to two figures on the ground.

As more gunshots lanced through the air, Alexander remained focussed on the face of the woman as slowly the life disappeared from her eyes, too. Then he was alone in the faded silence as the invaders continued on their path up ahead, dispersing as they continued to pillage and terrorize the colony. At this point, he moved his head to take an inspecting look around where he laid. Shops were overturned and destroyed, some still aflame as people who stumbled to their feet all around. It was at this moment that his eyes focused in on helpless movement coming from underneath a collapsed tent. Carlos.

Alex braced himself, mentally checking his body for any undetected injuries before pushing himself up and running, head bent low beneath what was left of the market for cover. Every time he heard or felt the earth shake with a bang or smell the distinctive odor of firearms, he would automatically flinch and duck lower, but luckily no harm befell on the doctor as he closed in on the scene.

As soon as he was close enough, Alex dropped to his arms and knees, coughing from the dust that was still floating in the air in the raiders' wake. "Mr. Torres?" He struggled to find his voice, pushing aside rubble and upturned produce and grains. At long last, he managed to shove away the blockage enough to reveal a severely injured Carlos Torres.

"Don't... son, leave me. I am too old. It is my time."

Alexander shook his head, shock still flushing strong in his veins. "Old? You could have fooled me." The brief pass at humor did little to savour the moment. At least it managed to get a chuckle out of the older man. By what he could see, Carlos was in grave danger. He had been shot in the chest, dangerously close to his heart. Blood was slowly filling up inside his chest cavity, making it difficult to speak.

"Just breathe through the pain," he advised. Doctor-mode was quickly overtaking Alexander as he took a moment to look up. There was a trickle of his own blood falling from his brow., of which he wiped away with a sleeve hastily. Still dizzy from his fall, it took him several seconds to attain the proper thought comprehension to come to the conclusion of what must be done. The only way Carlos had a fighting chance was to be operated on, and the only way for him him to be operated on...

"We have to get you out of here." The words escaped from his mouth with realization. Determination now rushing through him, Alexander inhaled deeply and turned back down to look at Carlos. The journey to the Robbins' household was not very far, but carrying Mr. Tores, it would be a challenge.

"No, I said I was fine. Go... go tend to someone more worthy."

"Mr. Torres, I will not have this discussion with you right now. I am here. Not there, nor anywhere else. Now let me help you."

Apparently the older man had lost his will to argue. In any case, Alexander would have likely ignored any attempt Calliope's father made to defy him. As the man's breathing became more and more shallow, and it became obvious that Carlos was weak, he stood slowly and eased the other man into his own two arms.

The walk was not an easy feat. Twice he had to take a break to rest his arms, finding that the task was made easier by alleviating the weight at random intervals. Carlos had nearly become unconscious by the time they reached the Robbins' manor. Stopping in the middle of a treeline, Alexander left the older man a few paces back so that he could move forward to investigate, making sure that no prying eyes were watching the household. The last thing he wanted to do was mistakenly lead an ambush to their only safe haven.

"_Nous avons les chevaux, partons!" [We have the horses! Let's get out of here!] _A men yelled, having just ravaged through the barn's interior. Alexander could see quite plainly that a group of about five or six soldiers had helped themselves to anything of value in the now empty building at a distance. The manor itself had been left untouched, their hands probably too full - at least for now.

His own hands balled into fists, anger trembling through the man's frame. There was nothing that could be done to save what was hers, or rather theirs. Only from a distance could he see the men take their leave, jumping onto the obedient horses that the Colonel had worked so tirelessly to train for years. Except for one. _"Celui-ci n'est bon a rien, laissons-le!" [This one won't listen, he's worthless!] _Alexander could hear one man yell in vain, fighting tirelessly with the one stallion that refused to follow.

Somehow Nico had miraculously managed to rear up and cut the rope they had fastened around his neck. The raiders finally gave up and let him run, one actually raising his firearm up as if to shoot the beautiful animal before another grabbed the head of the gun and jerked it away, shouting in French of how they were not to waste their shots. Alexander hadn't known it, but his breath had actually been held. He only sighed in momentary relief when the men finally left their property. It was now that he must act.

* * *

_BANG!_ He had kicked the door to the side entry with one boot, upper body strength still securing a hold around the man to keep him upright. "OPEN THE DOOR!" He barked out at no one in particular. He knew at least Miranda and Isobel had to be in there. If they had already disappeared into the hidden walled off room, he would have a problem. Alex shouted himself hoarse until he saw the faintest glimpse of movement behind the glass frame. "Miranda, it's me, Karev. Open the door!" He ordered again in a panic. He didn't like how exposed he was out here, and there were more bangs and shouts not too far off. It could be any second that a raider came back for a second look.

Just when he was about to summon all the strength he had left in his tired out body, the door opened and it was Isobel whose face he first saw. At first she paused as if in shock, relief clearly flooding her features at the sight of him, but she soon ushered him inside quickly before shoving the door back, her fingers trembling as she tried to find the co-ordinance to readjust the locks. "Has Arizona made it? Where is she?" Alex asked, his fear and worry for her paramount, but more than that he was going to need her. He needn't have asked, for the second he turned ahead into the hall again three more figures materialized before his eyes, one of which he had not been expecting in the slightest.

"Father?" Calliope Torres' fear-filled voice could not be mistaken, and as she rushed into the front hall, away from the darkness and into the light coming through the window behind him, he waited for the moment she would realize. "Father? No! No!" The Spaniard began to fall apart, crying hysterically at the sight of her father bleeding severely in Alex's arms. His eyes travelled over the falling apart and unstable figure before him, not wasting a moment to find the eyes of his wife who had stopped to survey the scene in the hallway, on guard and ready to act.

"I need..." He started out, unable to finish the words because his body demanded that he take a breath.

"I know. I'll get it." The blonde woman replied dutifully, making quick movement of wedging herself between the wall and the figures crowding the front entrance way, heading towards the door. _Wait, no - _Alex's thoughts were running at confusing speed. He barely even had the chance to realize that what he needed from her required his wife to put herself in danger's way. His surgical toolkit was not in the manor, it was in the barn!

"Arizona, wait- " He started off, watching as the blur of her hair disappeared behind his shoulder, doors unlocking in her earnest attempt to get to the solution quickly.

"NO! Where is she going!" Calliope started crying harder than ever, actually losing her balance as her legs buckled and she began to fall towards the floor.

She would have hit the wood hard had it not been for Miranda stepping forward to catch her around the middle. She held Calliope up as gently as she possibly could, muttering words of soothing comfort and rubbing her shoulders before casting a concerning glance up to Alexander. "What can I do to be of assistance?" She asked, the strength behind her voice submerging the deathly quiet household into a place of determination.

Amidst the confusion and chaos, it became easy for Arizona to slip out and take off at a run down the hill towards the barn.

"Let's take him to the dining room. I need somewhere to lay him down to get a better idea on how bad this injury is." Despite the fact that he already knew that Carlos would likely need a risky surgery, Alex felt it best to keep this part to himself, at least until Arizona returned to comfort her friend.

Nodding to this, Miranda helped Calliope over to the spacious dining room and settled into a far enough away chair that she wasn't at risk of getting in the way. Isobel went about removing the candles from the wooden surface before hastily moving forwards to assist Alexander in helping Carlos to his back. The switch in body position seemed to alert the older man to the pain he was now experiencing. A deep inhale, and he was awake again, groaning in anguish while making a semi-conscious attempt to roll off the table.

"No, Mr. Torres, you cannot move right now." Isobel was suddenly firm with her tone, holding the man back before he managed to do more damage. "You are at the Robbins house'. Your daughter is here. She's safe." Her ability to fend so well under the stress impressed Alexander, not that he had much time to admire her calming talents, for there were more pressing things to think about, and questions that needed to be asked.

"Calliope, do you know if your father has had anything to drink this morning?"

The seemingly random question threw the Spanish woman off. Looking over at her, Alexander could see tear tracks rolling down her eyes. "W-what?" She asked nervously, clearly overwhelmed and confused. "I just need to know if he's had any alcohol. It greatly affects how I treat him."

"No. He hasn't had a drink at all today." She assured Alexander, wiping at her eyes. "Is he going to be okay?" At that moment, there was another loud crash as the door opened. Everyone in the dining room jumped in fright.

"I've got it!" Arizona cried, pausing only briefly in the threshold of the house before finding them in the dining room. She came running, holding up the familiar kit housing the necessary surgical equipment the married pair were now so accustomed to. But they had seemed to forgotten that not everybody in their vicinity were quite so comfortable.

"Oh my God, you're going to cut him open! No!" Calliope suddenly yelled and she stood up. To do what, it became clear that she hadn't the faintest idea. Arizona gave her husband his tools quickly, leaving enough time for her to catch the hysterical woman in her arms. "Callie, no! Please try to stay calm. This is Alexander. He knows what he's doing. I've _seen_ him do this."

Looking over her shoulder as the woman cried into her chest, Arizona met eyes with her husband in confirmation that she would handle the patient's daughter and keep her from interrupting what needed to be done.

"Calliope..." Carlos made a weak attempt to speak at the sound of her cries, quickly shushed by Isobel who had now taken up what had used to be Arizona's role. After hastily opening up the case, Alexander pulled out the packet of seeds from his front that he had been intending to purchase at the market. Giving them to him now would be suicide; the man would surely choke, so for now he would have to experience the pain, and hopefully he would faint quickly from the blood loss.

Alex paused for a minute, thinking. Looking down, he saw from the corner of his eyesight a white handkerchief poking from the front of Isobel's clothes. "Give me that," he ordered, but before even waiting for her to offer it, he simply grabbed the garment and without wasting another second, stuffed the fabric into Mr Torres' mouth. Between Carlos' muffled brief yell of pain when Alexander cut into him mixed with Calliope's tearful cries as her view was blocked by the blonde, he fainted before his daughter need ever know that he'd been in pain.

"Arizona, I need you." Alexander muttered insistently, a hint of impatience in his voice. She was his support when he was working especially here in their home. If she was in his presence and he had a scalpel in hand, she needed to be by his side. It was how they worked together; it had been the beginning of their functionality, the way they conducted their partnership.

Looking up to catch the eye of the maid who was looking sick to her stomach at the sight of the open chest cavity, he motioned for her to get out of the way. The two blondes traded places, albeit reluctantly for the latter part. Seeing Arizona beside her father at least seemed to ignite some calm into the still shaking Calliope who was not granted the opportunity to look for long before Isobel took her away and into the kitchen. Not long after, Miranda too followed.

"I can't find the source of the bleeding," Alexander whispered at last, now that they were free of the burden of possibly terrifying the man's daughter. "I can't, I'm... I-" His hands were shaking while holding the surgical utensils, clearly in shock from the adrenaline rush and everything he had just witnessed outside of the house.

Immediately, he felt his hand still. At first the doctor was confused, if not a little exhilarated by the abrupt change in ability, but then he realized that Arizona was gripping his hand. "Take a deep breath. Good. You can do this, Alexander. " After making sure that he was no longer shaking, his wife relinquished the grip she'd had on his wrist. Her head tilted a little and she looked down thoughtfully.

Her blue eyes seemed to be absorbing the patterns he made, and around the same time that he located what he needed to find, Arizona seemed to have as well: "You've got it now," she encouraged him, and indeed he had. It wasn't long before Alexander had managed to locate the bullet and remove it, a sigh of relief issuing from his body, knowing that all that was left was to stitch up Mr. Torres, and quickly. His age did not put him in favor of survival for such an invasive procedure, and so time was their greatest enemy.


End file.
